


Long Desert Shadows

by Sintavra



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Badass Jesse McCree, Buckle your seatbelts motherfuckers you're getting a self-indulgent Mummy AU, Expect some plot shuffling, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, Hanzo Shimada is a nerd, I apologize in advance, M/M, Nothing SUPER bad but I figured I'd put it out there, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Somewhat graphic descriptions of gore, Swearing, This is technically set in the 1920s but let's pretend that homophobia isn't a thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-09-20 20:55:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9515444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sintavra/pseuds/Sintavra
Summary: Evil has lain buried deep beneath the sands of Egypt for thousands of years, growing and deepening as it remains trapped. No earthly force would be able to stop its destructive path if freed from its harsh desert prison.Good thing that will never, ever happen, right?Right?





	1. Cursed by Fate

1290 BC.

The sun dipping low in the evening sky draped the Great Pyramids of Giza in harsh light, casting dark shadows upon the numerous monuments of Thebes, the City of the Living. Protected by the deadly sands of the Sahara and watched over by the gods of Egypt, Thebes was a city marked by great prosperity and was the crown jewel of Pharaoh Seti I’s kingdom.

Standing with his elbows hunched on the railing of his balcony and staring out at the city with a pensive look in his eye was Jabari, High Priest to the Pharaoh.

Keeper of the Dead.

Jabari heard a scuffling sound from the hidden passage in his chambers, and felt his heart start thrumming hard in his chest as he swiftly made his way to the entryway. Jabari pushed aside the stone slab that only appeared to be a permanent fixture in the wall to the sight of Akhom I, son of the Pharaoh and next in line to the throne.

“You came.” Jabari breathed in relief when they were both safely ensconced in the room, gathering Akhom into a hug and pressing a kiss into his sand-coloured hair, relishing the feeling of his lover’s arms winding around his torso in return.

“And make you travel all the way to Jericho by yourself?”  Akhom asked with a weak teasing note in his voice before raising his gaze to meet Jabari’s in the soft darkness. “Such little faith you have in me.” Akhom then pushed back from Jabari’s embrace to stand next to the single dying torch next to his bed.

“Besides…” Akhom stepped into the dim light. “There’s nothing here for me anymore.”

Barely illuminated by the weak glow of the torch were two deep slices on Akhom’s face. One was a shorter cut through the left side of his lip and onto his cheek, and the other a massive gouge running diagonally from the middle of his forehead to end under his right eye socket.

Jabari was struck speechless for a moment upon seeing the damage done to Akhom’s face, before swiftly moving forward and gently grasping his unmarred cheek in his hand.

“And your father?” Jabari asked gravely, already knowing the answer before Akhom revealed the bloody dagger he carried.

“He caught me as I was leaving with my things.” Akhom replied numbly. “I told him everything. It just all came out! And then he-“ Akhom winced as the tears he didn’t realize he was shedding dripped into his wounds and then took a shuddering breath to centre himself.

“It was him or me.”

“Then we better get moving.”

~~~

Jabari remembered the first time he had ever laid eyes on Akhom, when the Pharaoh heard of his unusual mystic prowess and had him dragged before the throne to demand he serve as his High Priest. Not enthusiastic about the responsibility, Jabari was trying to figure out a way to refuse what many would have considered a great honour without being executed in the process when a slight drift of his gaze had him suddenly locking eyes with a man he hadn’t yet noticed standing with flawless posture next to the Pharaoh’s throne.

And just like that, he was lost.

Prince Akhom I of Egypt stood tall and broad, with golden skin and hair, and eyes like polished lapis. Jabari couldn’t take his eyes off him and felt a thrill race up his spine when he realized Akhom was having similar troubles.

Their love blossomed over the years Jabari had spent living in Thebes, progressing slowly and in secret from heated looks across the room to soft words exchanged in empty corridors to regularly sneaking into each other’s quarters.

The Pharaoh had questioned Akhom about where he’d been spending his time once, just when Jabari had been dismissed from the throne room. He ducked around the corner and paused to eavesdrop on their conversation, listening as the Pharaoh managed to correctly deduce that his son was seeing someone.  Jabari felt his insides freeze as he listened to the growing panic in Akhom’s voice when suddenly the Pharaoh burst into hearty laughter.

“I was young myself once, I’ll have you know.” Seti chuckled with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Boyish indiscretions never hurt anyone.”

Jabari felt both relieved and troubled as he realized the Pharaoh wasn’t aware of who currently held his firstborn’s romantic attentions and didn’t care enough to find out.

Just as long as it didn’t interfere with Akhom’s duty as the future Pharaoh.

Jabari was certain from then on that his life would be forfeit if the Pharaoh ever uncovered his identity as the one Akhom had been carrying out his ‘boyish indiscretions’ with, but he didn’t care. He knew that love like his and Akhom’s only came around once in a hundred lifetimes, and he would do anything to keep it.

Throughout their relationship Akhom had tried fervently to convince Jabari that he wasn’t worth the risk, knowing all too well what his father was capable of. And each time Jabari would agree, and simply say that he was worth more.

However the Pharaoh slowly grew less and less patient with his son, marking each new year with a growing disdain that his eldest had not yet chosen a wife nor produced any heirs. It was easy at first for Akhom to hide his aversion to marrying someone that wasn’t Jabari at first. His objections to each woman brought before him were easily accepted and even agreed with at some points.  But as the pool of acceptable wives not yet refused by Akhom grew smaller and smaller, Jabari could see the Pharaoh nearing the end of his patience and knew that soon he would simply demand Akhom take a wife or else.

Two nights ago Jabari had discreetly packed all the essentials he would need to survive the journey to Jericho, though he planned to wander much further into the East once he resupplied and crossed the River Jordan.

One night ago he asked Akhom to meet with him so they could speak, telling him of his plans to leave.

And asked him to come with him.

“I can’t just leave, Jabari.” Akhom told him sadly. “You know that.”

“I _do_ know that.” Jabari agreed. “Which is why I won’t force you to come, but I can’t stay here and watch you pick a wife like what we have means nothing. Which is what will have to happen.” He finished bluntly but not cruelly, effectively silencing Akhom’s protests to the contrary. Jabari then grasped Akhom’s hands in his bigger ones, gently rubbing circles into his lover’s palms for a few moments.

“I’d give up anything if it meant we could be together.” Jabari started finally in a choked voice. “But I don’t have the weight of a kingdom on my shoulders so I can’t ask the same of you.” He saw moisture start to gather at the corners of Akhom’s eyes but pressed on despite the ache in his heart.

“I will be leaving tomorrow after sundown.” Jabari said somberly, raising his hands to wipe away the tears now streaming silently down Akhom’s face. “If you change your mind, meet me in my chambers. If you remain…” Jabari’s voice faltered and he suddenly grasped the back of Akhom’s neck to capture his lips in a hard kiss, which Akhom returned fervently.

“No amount of time or distance could ever change how much I love you.” Jabari murmured thickly when they broke away from each other, forcing himself to back away from Akhom while he still could. He walked over to the balcony where he had snuck in, and turned to give Akhom one last searching look.  

“Remember that.”

~~~

“Are you alright?” Jabari intoned worriedly in Akhom’s ear, looping an arm around his waist to keep him steady after he stumbled again.

“Fine,” Akhom reassured. “J-Just a little dizzy.” Jabari had stemmed the flow of the injuries on Akhom’s face before they set out, but he had lost a fair amount of blood and it showed.

“I have you. Lean on me.” Jabari murmured, nuzzling his face against Akhom’s cheek before pulling his arm over his shoulder and carrying on. They moved quickly through the palace, Jabari guttering out each torch they passed to conceal them in darkness.

“Just a little bit further, Akhom. We’re going to make it!” Jabari whispered encouragingly. Before Akhom could reply, a loud voice boomed out from behind them.

“STOP THERE, BETRAYER!”

Jabari and Akhom looked back to see a lone Medjai, one of the Pharaoh’s personal guard, standing with a drawn bow pointed at the two of them. Jabari watched in slow motion as the Medjai loosed the arrow, Akhom turning to look up at him with sorrow on his face before shoving him forward hard. Jabari twisted in the air just in time to watch the arrow impale through Akhom’s back.

Piercing his heart.

“AKHOM!” Jabari screamed in agony before pulling out a hidden knife and throwing it directly into the Medjai’s throat. He didn’t watch the body fall as he scrabbled forward to crouch over his lover’s form.

“J-Jabari…” Akhom gasped weakly, blood dripping out of his mouth. 

“Stop talking! I can fix this!” Jabari near screamed in reply, prompting Akhom to look up at him with fondness and pain in his eyes.

“I’m sorry we didn’t make it to Jericho...” Akhom whispered, barely making a sound.

“Don’t talk like that!” Jabari sobbed brokenly. “We’re still going! We’re going and we’re going to be free, Akhom! Just you and me.” He pleaded desperately, hating that every word that spilled like floodwater from his lips was just part of a dream that would never come true now. Akhom knew it too, and shook his head in reluctant denial.

“Not even death can change how much I love you, Jabari.” Akhom wormed his fingers in between Jabari’s and squeezed them softly. “Remember that…” Akhom released one last shuddering breath, his fingers going lax.

And he was gone.

A wild, animalistic howl of pain ripped out of Jabari’s throat as he cradled his lover’s already cooling body in his arms, pressing his face into Akhom’s throat where his pulse had throbbed only moments before. Jabari registered the sound of low murmuring and shuffling feet and looked up to see the rest of the Medjai gathered in a confused huddle at the end of the hallway, seeing that one of their own arrows had killed the prince.

A spark of manic innovation suddenly jolted through Jabari, and coldness settled like a dark mist over his mind as he abruptly launched to his feet with Akhom in his arms. Jabari sprinted through the palace with unwavering determination, effortlessly fleeing away from the alarmed shouts of the Medjai like his feet had been blessed with wings as casually jumped off a balcony to land in a perfect crouch on the ground below. Jabari gently laid Akhom’s body into a chariot once he arrived at the stables and swiftly secured it to the fastest horses he could find.

The late Pharaoh’s, naturally.

Jabari whipped the reins hard to urge the horses into a gallop and they quickly sped away from the city. Jabari glanced at Akhom’s body, unable to stop replaying the very last words he spoke over and over again.

_Not even death can change how much I love you…_

Jabari knew only one place in the world where that could be true.

Hamunaptra

City of the Dead.

~~~

Jabari travelled deep into the desert, not stopping until he finally reached the city where the wealth of Egypt was stored, where so many generations of pharaohs’ sons were prepared to take their final rest.

Where one would walk amongst the living once more.

Jabari carefully arranged Akhom on the dais where his body would have otherwise been prepared for burial, before stealing deep into the temple to unearth the black Book of the Dead from its holy resting place. For contained within the Book was the knowledge on how to raise the dead, a great and terrible power forbidden for mortal use.

But Jabari was more than willing to defy the will of the gods in order to restore Akhom to his side.

Using the scarab key that he had been entrusted to protect as High Priest, Jabari unlocked the Book and began chanting out the incantations to bring back Akhom’s soul from the underworld. A vaguely human-shaped form made of glowing blue-white mist suddenly materialized across the room, and was drawn like a magnet to settle over Akhom’s body. Jabari watched in joy as he saw Akhom’s eyes flutter and his chest heave in a breath. Jabari felt the final words of the incantation start to form on his tongue when several pairs of hands grabbed at him and flung him away from the dais.  

The Medjai had followed him to Hamunaptra!

Jabari watched in horror as Akhom’s body grew still once again, his soul rising in a panicked swirl around his body before it suddenly flew upward with a gust of wind and disappeared.

“NO!” Jabari cried out in anguish, twisting wildly to get free from his captors, but to no avail as he was forced down onto his knees and his hands bound behind his back. The last Jabari ever saw of Akhom was his arm hanging limp over the side of the dais before he was jerked to his feet and dragged away.

Jabari didn’t stop screaming Akhom’s name until one of the Medjai knocked him unconscious.

~~~

Daring to resurrect the dead, even the crown prince of Egypt, defiled the most sacred of earthly laws. As such, there was only one sentence suitable enough to properly condemn Jabari for his crime.

The Mut Akh, a curse so vile that it had never before been bestowed upon anyone in recorded history.

Step-by-step Jabari was expertly prepared for mummification, the embalmers appearing completely untroubled by the fact that the body they were preparing was squirming, fighting, and very much alive.

First his tongue was carved from his mouth and the stump cauterized shut to keep him from bleeding out, his screams turning into choked gurgles when he could no longer form words. Then Jabari was wrapped in linen bandages from head-to-toe, wound so tightly around his body that he couldn’t move his eyelids, could barely even struggle.

After the bandages obscured his face and left him in complete and utter blackness, Jabari felt primal fear begin to race through him when he felt himself being lifted and placed into a stone sarcophagus. Jabari heard footsteps approach the edge before they paused; dumping a load of hundreds of stone-sized objects on top of him that immediately began scurrying frantically all over his body.

The bandages around his mouth couldn’t muffle Jabari’s screams as he began to experience the soul-rending agony of being slowly devoured alive by flesh-eating scarabs.

The embalmers passed to allow the new leader of the Medjai, son of the man who accidentally slew Prince Akhom, to doubly seal Jabari’s sarcophagus as well as its protective stone casing with the scarab key.   

The curse of the Mut Akh would feed upon Jabari’s soul just as the scarabs fed upon his flesh, keeping his undead soul bound to the earth for all of eternity. The Medjai knew they could never release him, no matter if any felt empathy for the cruel fate of star-crossed lovers. If unleashed, Jabari would awake as an unspeakable horror, a plague-bringer to humanity, a walking shadow with the strength of ages, command over the sands, glorious invincibility and the power to blot out the sun and enshroud the world in eternal darkness.

If death walks among the living, then death will come for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so literally how this came to be was that I watched The Mummy and was like "Lol, Rick and Evie remind me a lot of Jesse and Hanzo" but then I just KEPT. DRAWING. PARALLELS. Seriously there's so much shit in this movie that aligns really well with the lore of Overwatch and I guess I just couldn't help myself. 
> 
> So here you guys go I guess, have fun :D
> 
> P.S. Fun fact the name for the curse was honestly just me finding a book on ancient Egyptian and looking for two words that mean 'Death' and 'Blossom'


	2. Welcome to Hamunaptra. Don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *disclaimer* some dialogue was taken directly from the movie

1923 AD.

The harsh rays of the Egyptian midday sun pounded like a hammer on the half-buried ruins of Hamunaptra, the heat causing the air to warp and shimmer as mirages flickered across the sands.

It was just too bad that the army of desert nomads, so large that they darkened the horizon and made the air rumble with the pounding of several hundred horses worth of hoofbeats, wasn’t one of those fickle illusions.

Funny how things shake out like that.

Jesse McCree listened to the panicked shouts of his compatriots as they scrambled to prepare themselves against the massive force of rifle-brandishing Tuaregs baying for their blood and wondered, not for the first time that hour even, just which of his stupid ideas was most responsible for landing him into this doozy of a clusterfuck.  

Was it last year in Paris when he, despite being a born and raised American, enlisted in the French Foreign Legion while drunk off his ass just to impress a pretty girl that he honestly couldn’t remember the name of at this point? Was it two weeks ago when he, along with the rest of his garrison, decided to abandon their posts and trek across the Sahara desert into Egypt to find the treasure of Hamunaptra, which wasn’t supposed to exist? Or was it just hours ago when they actually managed to find the fabled City of the Dead and he, despite pointing out the high risk of ambush from roaming desert tribes and being pointedly ignored by Colonel Portero, stayed to find gold and riches?

Well whatever it happened to be, Jesse couldn’t really spare the time to puzzle it out as he quickly got into position behind a low, crumbling wall that stretched across the front of the ruins with his fellow Legionnaires. Bracing his rifle on his shoulder, Jesse quickly scanned the incoming horde for targets.

There were _plenty_ to choose from.

“Goddamn it.” Jesse swore under his breath but motioned to the men to ready their weapons. When the crack of a whip sounded out from behind them, Jesse jerked his head around in confusion to pinpoint its source.

What he saw was the Colonel, whom he’d warned specifically about this whole goddamn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation in the first place, beating a hasty retreat up the lone path to the ruins where he likely wouldn’t stop until he’d reached the unforgiving desert beyond.

Jesse hoped the useless bastard fried.   

“Well mate,” His fellow Legionnaire Jamison Fawkes said from beside him, sporting a look of morbid indifference on his face that Jesse figured he probably mirrored on his own. “Looks like you just got promoted.”

Jesse rolled his eyes skyward and didn’t deign that with a response.

 _“Take your positions!”_ Jesse ordered out in French loud enough to be heard along the wall and the line of supporting fire in position atop a higher wall behind them.

“ _Steady!_ ” Jesse boomed out, and then spoke in English. “You’re with me on this one, right Jamison?” He asked, giving him a warning nudge with his elbow. The skinny Australian may have been the closest thing resembling a friend that Jesse had in the Legion, but he knew first-hand that his ‘friend’ was a snivelling opportunist with the valor of a rat on a sinking ship at the best of times.

This was not the best of times.

“Don’t you know that _your_ strength gives _me_ strength?” Jamison replied in a non-committal tone. Jesse turned slightly to side-eye him in suspicion, but Jamison kept his eyes resolutely forward until Jesse didn’t have a choice but to refocus on the approaching Tuaregs that were now just a matter of seconds from reaching the ruins and hacking them to bits.

“ _Steady!_ ” Jesse bellowed again.

~~~

 _Think of the gold. Think of the gold._ Jamison thought feverishly over and over again in his mind.  Sweat beaded at Jamison’s temple and dripped lazily down into his eyes, more of it welling up all over his body and soaking into his white desert uniform as he tried desperately to hold onto the thought of all the riches just _begging_ to be stolen inside Hamunaptra. The aim of his rifle dipped and swirled as the tremble in his hands that he’d been ignoring suddenly morphed into full-on shaking.

 _Oh for fuck’s sake, pull it together!_ Jamison scolded himself internally. He didn’t walk all the way across the godsfucked Sahara just to leave empty handed, right?

The Tuaregs clearly disagreed, racing toward the ruins even faster now that they were nearly upon them.

Jamison’s life had been guided by the lure of gold as long as he could remember. Even as a young pickpocket scraping out a living in the streets of Sydney, he knew that it was his destiny to find lost treasure and live like a prince for the rest of his days.

Knowing that one day he would eventually discover gold and riches beyond his wildest dreams didn’t make them any easier to find unfortunately, but that didn’t deter Jamison too much. He learned that it just meant he had to settle for smaller scores until he finally stumbled upon one that was worthwhile. He had decided to live life as a wanderer until that managed to happen, and it wasn’t long before he discovered the easy pickings that came with robbing churches. It wasn’t something that had occurred to him when he’d first left Australia for richer pastures a few years back, but once he realized just how goddamn many there were scattered all over Europe he couldn’t resist. Unlocked buildings filled to the brim with prime swag with nothing but altar boys and wrinkly old pricks wrapped in moth-eaten robes to guard it? Sign him the fuck up.

It’s a bloody shame how easy pickings rarely stayed that way, to his eternal annoyance. Just how was he supposed to know how protective Hungarians got over their churches? He wasn’t a goddamn fortune-teller, though it would’ve been a handy skill to have.

He could have avoided starting the man-hunt that would chase him all the way to France, force him to enlist in the French Foreign Legion just to escape his pursuers, and screw his life over something fierce in that precise order. Jamison Fawkes didn’t take orders from anyone! Especially not a bunch of French pricks with sticks so far up their asses it was a surprise that they weren’t constantly coughing up wood chips.

However, unless his wanted status magically disappeared or he decided he felt like getting shot for desertion, he would just have to deal with it. He just counted himself lucky that McCree, whom he had cozied up to _immediately_ after finding out how good the man was with anything that fired bullets, had an accent he could half-stand.  

Immediately getting shipped off to the driest part of Africa after completing basic training didn’t improve Jamison’s attitude on the whole matter one bit. It beat rotting in a Hungarian prison, but only slightly. Just how was a man supposed to fulfil his destiny of being the richest man on Earth while stuck doing bullshit patrols in the desert?

But then one day, he’d happened to walk in on the garrison whispering about a mysterious city called Hamunaptra….

And here he was, watching the distance between himself and hundreds of sword-swinging maniacs gunning for his head continue to shrink far too rapidly for his liking.

Jamison had done a lot of reckless things to slake his lust for gold over the years, but his nerve held out and always let him come out the richer man. Not this time apparently, as the greed that had poorly disguised itself as courage throughout Jamison’s life abruptly failed him and ran shrieking for the hills.

So naturally, he followed it.

~~~

At this point, the strongest emotion Jesse could manage to muster up was resigned annoyance as Jamison tossed his rifle onto the ground and ran up to the path like a scurrying rodent.

“Wait for me, Colonel! Wait for me!” Jamison screamed in fear.

“Surprise, surprise.” Jesse muttered under his breath, turning back to steel himself against the literal stampede careening towards them with all the subtlety of a mile-high sandstorm. The butt of his rifle was tucked securely against his shoulder, the barrel pointed straight and unwaveringly forward, his finger lightly curled around the trigger.

“ _STEADY!_ ” Jesse yelled out for the final time, barely managing to make himself heard over the rumbling. The Tuaregs were closing in, and his keen eye marked their distance at five hundred feet away.

Three hundred feet.

One hundred.

Fifty.

“ _FIRE!_ ” Jesse roared, and a volley of bullets exploded from all around him. The squeal of horses rang out over the desert as the first line of marauders were sent tumbling hard to the ground, several getting crushed beneath the heavy bodies of their mounts as the Legion quickly reloaded and continued to fire into their enemy. And yet, even with the corpses of their fallen brethren now blocking the way, the Tuaregs refused to relent and vaulted over the bodies, still writhing on the ground, with wild cries of triumph.

Jesse unloaded bullet after bullet into the Tuaregs, landing perfect killshots with every pull of the trigger as he _super-methodically_ chose his targets by how close they were getting. He managed to take down everything that he shot at and saw the Legionnaires around him trying to do the same, but there was only so much a garrison of a hundred-odd men could do against a several-hundred-strong band of vicious killers who clearly wanted nothing but to turn the sand red with their blood.

Jesse hated to admit it, but it was looking like not a damn thing on heaven or earth could stop their enemy from overtaking them.

This wouldn’t have been the first time Jesse was left with no real choice other than to stand his ground when the bullets began to fly, but he knew a one-sided battle when he saw one. His brain was telling him to drop his shit and run for the hills like the Colonel and Jamison, just for that slightest chance of survival, but he couldn’t leave the rest of the garrison to get slaughtered as they panicked with no-one to lead them.

They weren’t going to win, but they had to at least _try._

A line of fifty on horseback quickly inched ahead of the pack in an organized formation and readied their rifles, forcing Jesse to dive under the wall just in time to miss a hail of bullets to the face, though the screams that came from beside and behind him told him that not everyone was so lucky. Alarmed shouts from further down the line had Jesse glancing over to see what was up, just in time to notice another group of Tuaregs coming out of nowhere to flank them from a sand dune overlooking the border wall.

_Fuck you Colonel Portero, you giant worthless asshole._

Jesse’s attention was kept dangerously fractured between the bullets taking down more and more of the Legion with each wave, and the glint of curved scimitars as the ambush raced down the sand dune with screams of victory. There were no longer enough men to hold the line, and the Tuaregs charged forward even harder knowing they had overwhelmed their enemy. Jesse pushed himself to a standing position and started backing away, eschewing his perfect aim to just fire bullets as fast as he could cram them into the chamber. Jesse watched in growing dismay as one by one, the Legionnaires standing with him threw down their rifles to desperately try and flee from the mayhem. One fell from a well-placed bullet to the head, another to a kukri knife embedded deep into in his back, but Jesse remained rock-steady and just kept reloading his rifle to fire into anything starting to veer in his direction.

“Son of a BITCH!” Jesse snarled angrily when his piece-of-shit, good-for-nothing, hunk-of-metal-and-gunpowder masquerading as a rifle jammed at the completely wrong time like it _always fucking did_. As he was fiddling with it, Jesse glanced up to see the tip of a sword coming straight for him.

“Ah, fuck this!” Jesse growled as he flipped the rifle in the air to grab it by the barrel and swung it hard into his attacker’s jaw, knocking him clean off his horse. Not missing a beat the Tuareg rolled to his feet with his sword drawn and tried to skewer Jesse from behind, but another good whack to the head with the rifle’s stock made him crumple to the sand in a heap.  

Jesse unceremoniously tossed his useless rifle to the ground and tugged Peacekeeper, his pride and joy, free from its holster. He snapped up the revolver to fire one bullet and then another into the chests of two Tuaregs climbing over rubble in an attempt to literally get the jump on him, swords flailing wildly as they fell. Jesse then began to calmly but swiftly back himself up the footpath leading to the ruins, firing the rest of his bullets with lethal precision as more warriors on foot and horseback charged the path from all sides.

Jesse sprinted up the trail a few steps as he pulled out a speed-loader of six bullets, his finest invention if he did say so himself, and popped it into Peacekeeper’s barrel. He spun on his heel to fan the hammer in a deadly spray, hitting two men in the chest and strategically felling a horse so that it crushed a quartet of Tuaregs beneath it when it crashed to the ground. Jesse crammed in another speed-loader and repeated the process before a trio of mounted Tuaregs raced up the path with rifles drawn in an unrelenting charge, forcing him to haul ass into the ruins lest he wanted to be an unpleasant combination of shot and trampled.

Jesse cleared a wide piece of rubble at the footpath’s summit with a flying leap, and used the momentum to launch himself an extra ten feet away from his pursuers. Jesse felt reluctantly relieved when he saw Jamison still alive, spinning in slow, aimless circles in front of a crumbling stone doorway as he took in the battle around him.

At least until his eyes focused on Jesse sprinting like a maniac down the hill.

“Run, Jamison!” Jesse yelled warningly, watching him abruptly snap to attention. Jesse agitatedly made pointing motions to the doorway behind him. “Get inside! Get inside!” Jamison nodded an affirmative and turned to scurry as fast as he could into the little opening.

Only to worm his skinny arms behind the door and start pushing with all his might.

“Hey! Don’t you close that door!” Jesse bellowed in outraged disbelief as Jamison blatantly ignored him, instead pushing the thick stone door even faster. “Don’t you close that fucking door, Jamison!”

“Sorry, McCree! You snooze, you lose!” Jamison yelled back apologetically, breaking whatever semblance of sincerity that statement may have had by letting out a mocking cackle before closing the door with a hard thud in Jesse’s face.

“Damn it!” Jesse grunted angrily as his shoulder collided uselessly into the stone. Jesse swiftly turned to press his back into the door, flinching as a hail of bullets slammed into the archway when the Tuaregs caught up with him. Jesse pushed himself away from the slab to run forward through a raised bed of stone pillars, darting and weaving around them to barely dodge the multiple shots being fired through the air as he ran. Jesse tried to leapfrog over a broken chunk of pillar and land in a crouch on the ground, but his frantic speed caused him to severely misjudge the timing of his jump.

Jesse awkwardly flipped up and over to scrape his face on the stone and land gracelessly back-first onto the hard ground below, sending Peacekeeper and all of his speed-loaders skittering over the sand. Jesse rolled to his knees, successfully grabbing his revolver and attempting to reach for a speed-loader only to jerk his hand back when the sand exploded with the impact of multiple bullets. Jesse jumped up into a defensive crouch and scrambled back a few steps, whipping his head back to check if the path behind him was clear before booking it through the ruins.

Jesse rounded a column only to be cut off by another trio of Tuaregs racing towards him. With no time to think, Jesse cut a diagonal path between the two parties to duck behind pillars and leap over crumbling chunks of wall in a last, desperate bid for escape.

But Jesse could tell when he was being herded.

Out of breath, ammo and luck, Jesse finally came to a rolling stop in front of a half-buried statue of Anubis. He eyed the sheer cliff behind it that blocked him from going any further, and braced a hand on the jackal’s stone chest in weary acceptance.

“Egyptian god of death, huh?” Jesse panted, turning to watch his pursuers congregate in front of him with rifles in hand and hatred burning in their eyes. Jesse stood there and faced the warriors with the careless arrogance of a man who knew that he was shit out of luck. Funnily enough Jesse had already made his peace with that. Luck had gotten him this far without getting his dumb ass killed, which was pretty damn impressive considering the life he’d lived, and apparently it would take him no further.

“Fitting.”

Jesse closed his eyes and braced himself when he heard the Tuaregs cocking their rifles, unnatural calmness sweeping over him and quieting his heartrate down to slow, heavy thumps in his chest. Jesse felt a strange breeze curve around the side of his neck like an exhaled breath, but barely registered it over the sound of screaming horses that he just managed to discern through the blood rushing in his ears. Any second now the rifles would fire and Jesse McCree would be just another corpse in the desert, doomed to the fate of vulture chow.

Any second now.

Any…

Second…

What the hell?

Cautiously cracking an eye open, Jesse looked at the empty space where the Tuaregs had been standing, ready to shoot enough bullets into his sorry hide to take down an elephant just seconds ago. He leaned forward to see if he could spy them, instead tilting his head in confusion when he saw nothing but empty ruins.

“Um…” Jesse said stupidly, uncharacteristically at a loss for words as he watched the cloud of dust that had apparently been kicked up into the air by the Tuaregs leaving in one hell of a hurry settle to the ground. Jesse stiffened as the air abruptly stilled around him and an unnatural silence draped over the ruins, unbroken except for the faint sound of wind whistling through the rubble. He suddenly became hyper-aware of a prickling sensation on the back of his neck like he was being watched, and Jesse’s heart started pounding in nervous fear.  

Wait a second…

Were those-

Whispers?

Jesse tilted his head to try and triangulate the source but it seemed to be coming from all around him. He’d thought it was just the sound of an odd breeze twisting down the rocks upon first listen, but now Jesse could definitely hear distinct words being formed, even if it wasn’t in a language he had ever come across before. Suddenly, it was like a person was standing beside him to whisper directly in his ear.

_Death comes…_

A chill crawled up his spine, and Jesse spun around to look up with fearful disbelief at the jackal head of Anubis. The voice rumbled out again, louder this time with a snarling edge to it.

_Death comes…_

Jesse’s blood turned to ice in his veins, plummeting to sub-zero temperatures when a screech rang out from beneath his feet. Jesse cried out in sudden, panicked distress as he was buffeted this way and that by wave after wave of sand swirling the ground at the base of the statue before he managed to scramble away. Jesse raised himself up on his elbows and watched in wide-eyed horror as a crude human face was swiftly carved out of the sand with each pass, its mouth sinking into the ground to open wide in a loud, guttural groan.

“FUCK THIIIIIIIIIS!” Rang out over Hamunaptra and faded into the distance as Jesse sprang to his feet and ran like the devil himself was chasing after him.

After the day he’d had, Jesse didn’t have the guts to check just in case he was right.   

~~~

“ _The creature remains undiscovered_.” The Medjai chieftain stated with a measured amount of pride in Arabic to her Medjai brothers and sisters as they stood with their horses atop a high cliff, watching dispassionately as the Tuaregs fled fearfully into the relative safety of the desert. Their patrol had observed the entire skirmish with learned indifference, feeling only grateful that their intervention was not required to drive away the intruders.

It wasn’t the first time the Medjai had watched the sands of Hamunaptra stained red with the blood of foolish treasure-seekers who didn’t know of the horrible danger that lay buried beneath their feet, and it wouldn’t be the last.

For over three thousand years, the Medjai had successfully guarded the City of the Dead. Under their watch, no-one had ever managed to gain entrance to the hidden depths of the necropolis to unwittingly unleash the horror contained within.

“ _And what of this one?”_ The chieftain's second-in-command Okoro spoke up from beside her, drawing her attention to a lone man traipsing out into the desert on foot. The chieftain noted with reflexive curiosity that the man was dressed very abnormally compared to the vicious Tuaregs trampling everything in their path to escape, or the idiot Frenchmen whose white-uniformed corpses dotted the sands of Hamunaptra like bleached bones. Clearly this was a man untested on desert survival, as his heavier clothing and lack of anything to protect his face from the burning rays of the sun made his already unfortunate odds of survival dwindle to near nothing.

The man came to a jogging stop in the middle of a sandy wash presumably to catch his breath, but the chieftain was slightly taken aback when instead he slowly turned to stare directly up at them, the hard glitter of his eyes just barely visible from this distance. He stood there to watch them for a few long moments, before arrogantly turning his back and continuing his hopeless trek into the desert.

 _“Should we kill him?_ ” Okoro asked the chieftain deferentially, turning just enough to raise a questioning eyebrow at his leader.

“ _No.”_ The chieftain said with a single shake of her head, adjusting the hilt of her sword that was thankfully allowed to remain sheathed this day before motioning to the rest of their party that it was time to move along.

Any compassion she may have felt for the man dissipated when she remembered that he was just one of many doomed by their own arrogance by daring to step foot in the cursed city. He may have signed his own death warrant unknowingly by coming here, but he probably didn’t need to be forced into following along once he heard the stories about the vast treasure of pharaohs buried within.

He’d made his choice, and the chieftain couldn’t find it within her to show mercy to a man driven by greed.

_“The desert will kill him just fine.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with another chapter! 
> 
> For those who may be confused, Tuaregs are a nomadic Amazigh* (Thank you Percobei for the correction) people that live all across the Sahara desert. Most of them live in Niger and Mali and aren't typically found in Egypt, but they're the ones who attack Hamunaptra in the movie so I figured I could be excused in following along with it. 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who left comments and kudos on the last chapter! I appreciate each and every one of them :3


	3. Like A Bull In A China Shop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *disclaimer* some dialogue was taken directly from the movie

1926 AD.

It was yet another sunny whirlwind of a day in Cairo, where the rattle of horse-drawn buggies, the loud voices of pushy stall-keepers, and the shrieks of playing children blended into a single song and joined the din that hung like a low-flying cloud over the bustling city.

From deep within the library of Cairo’s Museum of Antiquities, Hanzo Shimada was grateful that not even a whisper of the world outside managed to reach him from where he had hidden himself away in the shelves, perched atop a high ladder and dutifully returning books.

Hanzo couldn’t explain it, but the act of reshelving books had always filled him with a measure of peace. It reminded him of when he relentlessly read the books in his own parents’ library as a child, unable and unwilling to stop filling his brain with anything that even slightly pertained to ancient Egypt. Hieroglyphics, gods, myths, mummification, pharaohs, pyramids, tombs, Hanzo could never get enough, and he was lucky enough to have parents that were always more than willing to give him more books to devour.

 _Just as long as I remembered to put them back in their proper places._ Hanzo remembered with a fond smile.

“Sacred stones,” Hanzo murmured out loud absentmindedly, his eyes glancing over the brown leather cover of the book before pushing it into the shelf and reaching for another from the stack balanced on his arm. “Sculpture and Aesthetics, Socrates, Seth: Volume One, Volume Two and Volume Three. And…” Hanzo plucked the next book from the stack to sort but stopped short when he took a good look at the cover.

“Tuthmothis? What are you doing here?” Hanzo tsked haughtily at the book as if it were a naughty child before looking around to see if he could spy where it belonged. “T, T, T, T…” He mumbled, leaning off the side of the ladder slightly. Hanzo saw the placard marking his shelf as ‘R/S’ and turned around.  

“Ah!” Hanzo quietly exclaimed in triumph as he located the right shelf, and it looked like Tuthmosis’ place just happened to be directly across from him. Hanzo slid the remainder of his stack to rest horizontally on the tops of the books already in the shelf for a moment and looked at the space between him and the ‘T/U’ shelf arrogantly, certain his reach was long enough for him to quickly push the book back into place.

“I,” Hanzo said in a somewhat strained voice as he leaned away from the ladder. “am going to put you back where you belong.” He stretched his arm as far as it would go, but fumed when he could only manage to get the book sitting on the very edge when he held it in place with his fingertips.  All it needed was one good push to slide it securely onto the shelf, so Hanzo leaned just a little bit further to get the leverage he needed. He heard the ladder start to creak from the oddly placed weight on it but he paid it no mind.

Just a few…

More…

Inches…

“eeYAI!” Hanzo couldn’t manage to stifle his startled yell, he _refused_ to admit it was a scream, as the ladder suddenly lurched away from the shelf to stand straight up in the air on its skinny legs.

With him balanced precariously on top.

Tuthmosis clattered to the ground uncaringly as the ladder shuddered and shook, making Hanzo’s breath come out in stuttered gasps and keeping his heart jumping nervously in his chest. Hanzo shifted his weight back and forth to try and keep his balance, but a slightly too heavy lean had the ladder swinging terrifyingly around on one wobbly leg to face away from the bookshelves, leaving nothing between him and a hard fall onto the stone floor of the library’s centre.

Hanzo craned his head as much as his unsteady equilibrium would allow, trying in vain to see someone who could help him down in a manner that didn’t involve breaking several of his bones, but all he could do was stare helplessly into the empty library.

“H-Help.” Hanzo gasped, barely making a sound. He could feel his glasses starting to slide down the bridge of his nose but didn’t dare lift a hand to adjust them as the ladder trembled again. Hanzo instinctively looked down at his feet, and belatedly realized how much of a mistake that was when it forced him to realize just how far he was off the ground.

Dizziness slammed through him with all the grace of a lightning bolt, and a particularly hard flinch had him swinging quickly back around to the ‘R/S’ shelf. The abrupt shift was too much for Hanzo to compensate for and he wobbled back and forth dangerously for a second before the ladder landed hard, sending the shelf teetering over but fortunately allowing Hanzo to slide down to the ground unscathed as it fell.

As such, he had plenty of time to stand and watch the remaining shelves that were arranged in a circle around the centre of the library crash to the ground one after the other like the world’s biggest game of dominos.

Hanzo looked around with wide eyes at the mess that had been a meticulously organized library only seconds ago, slowly removing his glasses with a faintly shaking hand.

“Oh, kuso.”

Hurried footsteps had Hanzo turning to the library’s entrance to see Ana Amari, co-head of the museum and his employer, gaping like a fish at the sight of all the downed shelves.

“Wh-what? How did-“Ana abruptly silenced as she finally noticed Hanzo standing guiltily in the centre of the wreckage.

“Hanzo!” She yelled in angered disbelief, striding forward to stand in front of him and poke an accusing finger in his chest. “What is the meaning of this? I leave you for barely an hour and you destroy _the entire library_!?”

“I am so very sorry, Ana.” Hanzo shakily apologized, still trying to get over the shock of what just happened. “I-It was an accident.”

“An accident? _An accident?”_ Ana barked incredulously before she clasped her hands together and took a calming breath to regain some composure. “Hanzo, the Sphinx’s nose falling off? _That_ was an accident.” She said with a condescending smile. “You? Are a catastrophe! Look at the library!” Ana whirled to gesture wildly with an arm at the books and papers that had been flung everywhere, making Hanzo fidget uncomfortably.

Ana wandered forward to pick up one of the fallen books, holding it by the spine for a few seconds before letting it slide out of her fingers and back onto the ground. She sighed as she turned back to stare at Hanzo with a disappointed look in her eyes that made him feel unbearably small.

“I know you have promise, Hanzo. But then there are days like this and I wonder why I put up with you.”

Ana’s quiet words cut Hanzo more than he thought they would, but he was determined not to leave that remark unchallenged for the sake of his pride, not to mention his job.

“You put up with me because I read and write ancient Egyptian, I-I can decipher hieroglyphics and hieratic and…” Hanzo hated the way his still-settling nerves forced his words to stop and start awkwardly, but he mustered up the iron-clad stubbornness that had gotten him into trouble just as often as it had gotten him out of it and continued on boldly. “Furthermore, I am the only person within a thousand miles who knows how to properly code and catalog this library, that’s why!” He finished indignantly.

But Ana just continued to stare at him, a sad smile flitting over her face.

“You should count yourself lucky that your parents were this museum’s finest patrons, my dear boy. Or else that wouldn’t be enough.” Ana murmured quietly, turning away before she could see the stricken look that flashed in Hanzo’s eyes before he clenched them shut. “May Allah rest their souls in peace.”

Tried as he might, Hanzo couldn’t find a single word in edgewise. How could he when he knew that Ana was right? He had been so damn proud of the fact that he’d earned his place at the Museum of Antiquities based on his own merits as a researcher, without any need for the influence of his parents’ academic reputations that were as respected now as they were when they were still alive.  

But this wasn’t the first time Hanzo had inadvertently caused trouble in the museum, he could still hear the screech that Ana made when a desiccated rat corpse he’d found in an artifact shipping box landed in her hair after he’d tossed it over his shoulder without looking, it was simply on a larger scale. Anyone else would have been fired on the spot if they managed to single-handedly knock over the entire library, so Hanzo couldn’t fault Ana for reminding him of that hard truth.

Still though, the mention of his parents had Hanzo’s heart filling with an old, familiar sadness. It had been nearly eight years ago now since they had died, but Hanzo still missed them fiercely as if it had happened only yesterday.

He hated the thought of disappointing them.

“Now I don’t care how you do it, or how long it takes, Hanzo. But get this place straightened out.” Ana’s words were stern but her tone had softened as she picked her way through the fallen shelves to return to her office. “And you should thank whichever gods happened to smile upon you that Jack’s away for the month.” Ana called over her shoulder. “He wouldn’t give a damn who your parents were if he saw what you did to his library!” Then she rounded the corner and disappeared.

Leaving Hanzo standing by himself in the middle of hundreds of books, not quite sure where to begin.

A heavy sigh left his lungs in a whoosh as he placed a hand over his eyes in ashamed embarrassment, but a muted thud had Hanzo reluctantly dragging it off his face to turn toward the source of the sound. One of the doors to the Sarcophagi and Sculptures room was somewhat ajar, making Hanzo furrow his brow in confusion.

Wasn’t he was the only one assigned to this part of the museum today?

Hanzo slowly strode towards the torches flickering behind the frosted glass of the doors, sliding past them and trailing a hand along the carved stone of the wall as the quartet of granite pharaohs guarding the room’s archway came into view.

“Hello?” Hanzo called out warily, but received only silence in return. He plucked a torch from a pharaoh’s hand and slowly walked in between the rows of sarcophagi.

“Aizad?” Hanzo called out, hoping it was just one of the other researchers scuffling around where they weren’t supposed to be. He lifted the torch to better illuminate the dark corners of the room, but saw no-one. “Mahmud?” He tried instead, nervous confusion starting to creep up into his chest when that too failed to elicit a response. Hanzo peered around a sarcophagus and felt his nerves tighten even further when he saw nothing but empty space.

“…Tariq?” Hanzo asked weakly.

The thudding sound rang out again, much closer this time, and Hanzo whipped around to be greeted with the eerie sight of an open sarcophagus. He approached it cautiously, peering into the rough stone of the coffin to try and see the mummy withi-

_“ERRRRRCHHHHHHHHHHH”_

Hanzo jumped back with an alarmed shout, _he refused to admit it was a scream_ , as the mummy suddenly sat up with a crunch. Howling laughter managed to penetrate through the blood roaring in his ears before a pair of legs kicked themselves up in the air and swung back down, the wildly grinning face of his infuriating younger brother Genji popping into view soon after.

“Have you no respect for the dead?” Hanzo barked angrily as he tried to slow his racing heart, but Genji just laughed again and slung a friendly arm around the corpse’s shoulders like it was an old friend.

“Of course I do, Hanzo!” Genji said completely insincerely, grabbing the mummy’s arm to make it rest its elbow casually on the edge of the sarcophagus to mirror his own pose. “But sometimes, it's more fun to join them.”

“You should do it sooner rather than later, before you ruin my career the way you’ve ruined yours.” Hanzo growled as he grasped the mummy’s arm to place it back inside the sarcophagus and swiftly rearranged the rest of the body back to where it had been resting peacefully before Genji had decided to disturb it with his childish prank. Genji gave it a flirty finger-wave goodbye and Hanzo rewarded him with a smack to the side of his head. “Now, get out.” He impatiently motioned away from the sarcophagus in a manner meant to warn Genji that if he didn’t climb out that second he would be tossed out.

“My darling, cherished brother!” Genji said in mock betrayal with a shocked hand braced over his chest, swinging one leg over the sarcophagus to straddle the rim for a second. “I’ll have you-“ Genji cut himself off as he tried to stand and wavered heavily before Hanzo instinctively gripped his bicep to steady him, keeping it there as Genji wobbled and stumbled his way out of the box. “-know, that at this precise moment my career is on a high note!” He finished happily as he slumped on the hard stone behind him.

“Something’s definitely _high_ but it’s not your career.” Hanzo said scornfully, more out of habit rather than actual anger as his irritation melted away into the simple annoyed exasperation of the elder sibling.

“I’m really not in the mood to do this right now, Genji.” Hanzo said distractedly as he wandered forward anxiously to peer over at the entrance, half-expecting Ana strolling in to hunt him down. “I’ve just made a… bit of a mess in the library. And the Adawe Scholars have rejected my application _again._ ” Hanzo revealed in frustration as he sat down on the base of a Horus statue. “They say I don’t have enough experience in the field.” He tried to keep the bitter disappointment from bleeding into his voice, but failed miserably and simply let out a heavy sigh.

Genji’s countenance quickly sobered and he gave Hanzo a sympathetic look, pushing himself away from the sarcophagus to kneel in front of his brother. He gently lifted Hanzo’s hands from where he had them clenched in his lap and clasped them in his own, giving him an encouraging smile.

“You’ll always have me, nii-chan.” Genji said feelingly, looking into Hanzo’s eyes until he felt his mouth twist into a smile that only his baby brother could put on his face. They both shared a laugh and pressed their foreheads together, each clasping a hand on the nape of the other’s neck.

From the moment he had first held his brother as a squalling infant, Hanzo treasured Genji. Even as the differences between them only grew more noticeable as they got older, even after all the fights those differences had caused between them, neither had ever doubted how much the other loved them. After the deaths of their parents, Hanzo drew great comfort from knowing his brother would always be there for him and suspected Genji did the same.

“Besides,” Genji gave one last squeeze to Hanzo’s neck. “I have just the thing to cheer you up!” Genji exclaimed enthusiastically, turning back to the sarcophagus to rummage around in its depths.

“Please don't let this be another worthless trinket.” Hanzo groaned, his eyes rolling heavenward. “If I have to take one more piece of junk to Ana and Jack to try and-“ An octagonal metal box was suddenly thrust in his face, making Hanzo stop to peer at it curiously. “Sell for you…” He took the box from Genji’s hand to rotate it slowly in his fingers, rubbing his thumb over the hieroglyphics intricately carved into the sides.

“Where did you get this?” Hanzo murmured questioningly, not bothering to look at Genji as he inspected the strange interlocking pieces on top.

“Oh, uh…” Genji anxiously scratched the back of his head. “Found it on a dig down in… Thebes.” If Hanzo detected the nervousness in Genji’s voice, he gave no outward sign as his focus was kept riveted to the box, noting that the edges on the box’s sides were slightly off-set.

“I’ve never found anything important in my whole life, Hanzo. _Please_ tell me I’ve found something.” Genji pleaded from beside him, latching onto his shoulder and giving it a shake.

Following a hunch, Hanzo carefully twisted the artifact until it opened up into an eight-pointed star with a folded piece of papyrus sitting inside the compartment.

“Genji?”

“Yes?”

Hanzo pinched the edge of the papyrus between his index finger and thumb and lifted it out of the box with a disbelieving chuckle as he glanced at his brother peering hopefully over his shoulder.

“I think you’ve found something.”

~~~

Ana unfolded the papyrus, glancing over its contents with thinly veiled skepticism.

“You see the cartouche there?” Hanzo asked as he excitedly pointed it out. “It’s the official royal seal of Seti the First, I’m absolutely certain of it.”

“Perhaps.” Ana huffed as she studied it through a magnifying glass.

“Ok, two questions.” Genji interjected from the corner of Ana’s office, striding forward to look at Hanzo from over Ana’s shoulder. “Who was Seti the First, and was he rich?”

“He was the second pharaoh of the nineteenth dynasty,” Hanzo revealed with no small hint of pride in his voice. “Said to be the wealthiest pharaoh of them all.” He added with a smirk, knowing that that would be what would keep Genji's interest.

“Good!” Genji rubbed his hands together eagerly. “I like this guy already, I like him very much!”

“I’ve already dated the map and it’s nearly three thousand years old.” Hanzo continued, ignoring Genji starting to circle the room like a happy goldfish in its bowl and pointed to another section of the papyrus. “And if you look at the hieratic right here, well it’s… it’s Hamunaptra.” Hanzo saw Genji jerk to a sudden stop out of the corner of his eye while Ana let out a disbelieving laugh, leaning back on her plush, leather desk chair to give Hanzo a patronizing look.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Hanzo.” Ana dismissed automatically with a wave of her hand. “Hamunaptra’s just a myth told by Arab storytellers to amuse idiot tourists and get them to waste their money on cheap souvenirs.” She hunched back over her desk to dubiously eye the map, reaching again for her magnifying glass.

“I know. I’ve heard all of the absurd stories about the city being guarded by the curse of a mummy.” Hanzo admitted a touch self-consciously, but pushed on regardless. “However, my research has led me to believe that the city itself may have _actually_ existed.”

“Are we talking about _the_ Hamunaptra?” Genji asked as he pressed himself back against Ana’s desk, his eyes wide with excitement.

“Yes, the City of the Dead.” Hanzo confirmed. “Where the first pharaohs were said to have hidden the wealth of Egypt.”

“Yeah, I remember now. Hoarded away in a biiiiig underground treasure chamber.” Genji agreed as he resumed rubbing his hands together greedily.

“Ha!” Ana snorted, not bothering to look away from the map.

“Oh, come on, Ana! Everyone knows the story.” Genji claimed indignantly, and the two brothers slowly circled back around the desk to stand next to each other while Ana continued to look over the map. “The entire necropolis was rigged to sink into the sand if the Pharaoh ever commanded it. One flick of a switch, and the entire city would disappear beneath the sand dunes!”

Hanzo remembered how the story ended, and watched Genji’s energy wane a bit when he remembered it as well. “Taking the treasure with it, unfortunately.”

“It's an interesting story, undoubtedly. But it doesn't make it any less of a fairytale.” Ana spoke up sarcastically, just before the corner of the map burst into flame as she held it a little too close to the oil lamp on her desk. “Oh my _goodness!_ ” She shouted in alarm, chucking the burning papyrus away from her and onto the floor. Hanzo felt his heart leap into his throat as he and Genji simultaneously darted around the desk, desperately trying to smother the flames before they completely consumed the map. Genji unfolded it once the fire was adequately tamped out, only to let out a cry of dismay.

“You’ve burned it! You’ve burnt off the part with the lost city!” Genji cried out in dismay, looking over at Ana to glare at her accusingly.

“Well, I’m certain it’s for the best.” Ana replied haughtily. “Many have wasted their lives searching for Hamunaptra. No-one’s ever found it.” She clasped her hands together on top of her desk and leveled them both with a suddenly serious look. “Most have never returned.”

Ana stood suddenly and moved her hands in a shooing motion. “Now get out of my office. Don’t you have a library to clean, Hanzo?” She asked, raising a brow at him pointedly.

“Yes, Ana.” Hanzo said obediently, grabbing Genji by the elbow and dragging his whining brother out the door before Ana decided she still had second thoughts about maintaining his employment.

“So that’s it, then?” Genji complained after they were standing safely in the hallway. “We’re just going to let this slip between our fingers?”

“Of course not.”

“You know, the reason why you don’t have experience in the field is because you never take these opportuni-“ Genji continued on angrily before he stopped in his tracks as he registered Hanzo’s words.

“Wait, what?”

“You heard me.” Hanzo said with a smirk as he walked away, leaving Genji to stand there and gape after him before he dashed forward and attached himself to his brother’s arm like a limpet.

“Really?!”

“Well, obviously we need to get to the bottom of this.” Hanzo said reasonably, walking arm in arm with Genji down the hallway towards the staircase. “Now the only clear path is to go back to where you found _this,_ ” He pulled the box out from where he’d stuffed it in his pocket and waved it in the air between them. “And figure out where to go next.”

“Uh, yeah.” Genji said uncomfortably. “You’re right about that, I guess.” The hesitation in Genji’s voice had Hanzo side-eyeing him in suspicion for a second, but he figured he could weasel it out of him later and slid the box back into his pocket.

“You’ll have to help me clean up the mess in the library before we leave, however.” Hanzo said just as the door to the library came into view.

“Of course.” Genji readily agreed when they walked inside. “I mean, how long can it take to clean up a bit of a me-“ Genji froze, his jaw dropping as he took in the books strewn all over the floor and the shelves slumped on top of each other.

“HANZO, WHAT THE FUCK?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left comments and kudos last chapter! :3


	4. An Odd First Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *disclaimer* some dialogue was taken directly from the movie

Upon first glance, most would not be able to detect that Cairo Prison was in fact, a prison. The building had an aged wooden exterior and large doors more suited to a warehouse. Any further inspection however would reveal windows mounted with bars, sentries on the roof, and armed guards posted at the entrances and prowling the perimeter.

This was the main reason that, when Genji had led Hanzo further into the city under the guise of procuring some additional supplies for their journey to Thebes, he didn’t realize where his brother had brought him until they were nearly upon the prison.

“Why are we here, Genji?” Hanzo asked with gritted teeth, already knowing he wouldn’t like the answer.

“An excellent question, dear brother!” Genji replied cheerfully as they rounded the corner and began approaching one of the gates. “You wanted to know more about the artifact, so I’ve arranged for us to talk to the drunken idiot from Acenath’s that I… misappropriated it from.”

Hanzo had suspected that Genji wasn’t being entirely truthful about where he’d found the puzzle box when he’d first revealed it to him back at the museum, but his excitement over the discovery had him pushing his suspicion to the back of his mind.

Foolish mistake.

“ _Genji!_ ” Hanzo fumed, but they were already in full view of the guards and he unfortunately couldn’t give in to the sudden impulse to strangle his brother.

Ever to his growing frustration.

Genji stepped forward and spoke lowly to one of the guards in Arabic, who nodded in assent and turned toward the gate. The door swung inward to reveal a hulking giant of a man standing stoically in the prisonyard with heavily-muscled arms crossed over his chest.

“Step over the threshold. I ain’t got all day.” The prison warden said in a voice more akin to a growl.  

Hanzo perhaps may have been intimidated if he weren’t busy trying to glare a hole through his idiot brother’s skull.

“Much obliged, Mako!” Genji said merrily as he half-dragged his brother into the prison. “I knew I could count on you, old friend.”

“I ain’t your friend, Shimada.” Mako snarled as he turned to walk through the prisonyard, past the ‘kitchen’ consisting of boiling pots filled with ambiguous stew sitting over firepits and lines of chained prisoners being shepherded by guards to their cells. “Your money won’t do much to keep me from chucking you into a cell, so keep that in mind before you decide to piss me off.”

“Mm, isn’t he a charmer?” Genji asked casually once the warden was safely out of earshot, but Hanzo wasn’t having any of his innocent act.

“You told me that you found the artifact on a dig down in Thebes.” He asked pointedly, years of practice allowing him to perfectly convey the full scope of his annoyance and frustration with a single arch of his eyebrow.

In return, Genji simply gifted him with a grin that had _also_ taken years of practice to perfectly convey how little he cared.

“Well clearly, I was mistaken.”

“You lied to me.”

“I lie to everyone, what makes _you_ so special?”

“I’m your brother!”

“That just makes you more gullible.”

“Genji!” Hanzo snarled as they were brought to the bars of one of the many cells that extended out into the prisonyard. “You stole it from a drunk at the casbah?”

“Picked his pocket, actually.” Genji said quietly, grabbing Hanzo by the elbow and swinging them around to keep their conversation from reaching Mako’s ears. “So I don’t think it’s the best idea to be saying that _quite_ so lou-“

“Oh, stop being ridiculous, you’re the one that brought us here.” Hanzo cut him off with a huff as he spun them back around and stepped forward to address the warden.

“Now, what exactly is this man in prison for?” Hanzo asked.

“Not sure.” Mako rumbled indifferently. “You got five minutes to ask him yourself.”

 

The door on the interior of the cell suddenly burst open with angry shouts in Arabic as a pair of guards shoved a positively scruffy-looking man in chains none-too-gently against the bars, his hair and beard horribly overgrown and his clothes stained with what was hopefully just dirt.

Hanzo found the man strangely locking eyes with him, even as one of the guards gave him a sharp hit with a baton that forced him to his knees.

“This is- this is the man you stole it from?” Hanzo asked incredulously, not able to break eye contact.

“It sure is.” Genji confirmed, a tad nervously. “So maybe we should jus-“

“Who are _you?_ ” The man abruptly asked, drawing the brothers’ attention back to him. He dragged his hands down the bars to rest on his thighs and flicked his gaze back to Hanzo. “An’ who’s the babe?”

“Babe?” Hanzo asked, turning confusedly to Genji who only gave him a two-handed shrug before stepping forward.

“I’m actually a missionary of sorts, trying to spread the good word and all that good stuff.” Genji drew a vaguely crucifix-shaped symbol in the air before grabbing Hanzo by the elbow and gently pulling him forward. “But _this_ is my brother, Hanzo.”

“Greetings.” Hanzo said coolly.

The man gave him a blatant once-over.

“Oh well, guess he’s not a _total_ loss.”

“I _beg_ your pardon?” Hanzo asked indignantly. He stepped forward to say more but was silenced by the warden shouting Arabic across the prisonyard.

“I’ll be right back.” Mako growled as he stalked away to deal with the commotion.

“Ask him about the box.” Genji prompted as he nudged Hanzo’s ribs with an elbow, which in turn prompted Hanzo to jerk his head to the side to level his brother with a fresh glare.

“We’ve found your puzzle box," Hanzo said after a few moments, Genji nodding along in affirmation "And we’d like to ask you some questions about it.”  .

The man slowly turned his head, fixing Hanzo with an arrogant look that seemed a little out-of-place considering the fact that he was sitting on his knees in a filthy prison cell. He watched them with an appraising eye for a couple of seconds before giving his head a shake.

“No.”

“...No?” Hanzo asked, his confusion evident.

“No.” The man confirmed condescendingly. “The _real_ reason y'all are here is to ask me about Hamunaptra.”

Hanzo quickly looked to Genji and found his brother looking back at him with the same flare of excitement in his eyes.

“How do you know that the box pertains to Hamunaptra?” Hanzo asked hushedly as to not draw attention.

“Because that’s where I was when I found it. Saw the godforsaken place with my own two eyes.” The man explained as if speaking to a particularly stupid child.

Genji slunk forward to lean his face mere inches from the bars.

“And how do we know that you speak the truth?” Genji asked commandingly, arching a skeptical eyebrow, but the man just frowned in confusion upon getting a close-up of Genji’s face.

“Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but don' I know you from somewhere?” He asked suspiciously.

“Uh, no, no.” Genji said, abruptly nervous. “I’ve just got one of those faces, you know?”

The man’s eyes suddenly widened in recognition and, fast as a gunshot, he landed a sucker-punch right on Genji’s jaw.

Genji fell to the ground with a cry, and the guards stepped forward to each lay a sharp _thwack!_ on the man’s back. He grimaced in pain but otherwise stayed silent as Genji lay face-down on the ground clutching his jaw.

 _Hm, serves him right._ Hanzo thought haughtily to himself as he stepped uncaringly over his brother’s prostrate form to approach the bars.

“You really found Hamunaptra? You were  _actually_ there?” Hanzo asked enthusiastically. The man met his gaze and Hanzo watched, perhaps a touch too closely, as his mouth slowly split into a charming smile.

“I sure was.”

“You swear?”

“Every damn day, sugar.”

“No, that’s not what I mea-“

“I know what you meant, I'm jus' yankin' your chain.” The man interrupted. “Yes, I was _really_ there. Didn' get a chance to take a crack at finding the treasure, but it was the real deal.” 

“Could you tell me how to get there?” Hanzo asked with a grin on his face, barely able to keep his ramping excitement out of his voice.

The man gave a slow blink and stared blankly at him.

Hanzo peered over the man’s shoulder to see the guards deep in conversation, and then over his own to check that the warden was still occupied. Satisfied with what he saw, he turned back to the bars.

“I mean, the _exact_ location?”

“You really want to know?” The man asked flippantly.

“Well, yes?” Hanzo confirmed, leaning closer to the bars.

“Do you _really_ want to know?” The man asked again, considerably softer, forcing Hanzo to move even closer just to hear him.

“...Yes?” Hanzo replied somewhat breathlessly.

The man beckoned him even closer with a finger, as if to whisper it in his ear.

And Hanzo obeyed.

He hadn’t moved more than a couple inches when the man’s rough fingers suddenly darted forward to clasp his jaw and pull him into a searing kiss, swallowing Hanzo’s tiny gasp of shock in the process.

Hanzo felt his eyes involuntarily close as the kiss went on for one heartbeat…

Then two…

Then three…

But before Hanzo could give in to the inexplicable urge to actively respond to the kiss, the man swiftly pulled back to look piercingly into his eyes.

“Then get me the hell out of here!”

The man was then abruptly jerked backward by one of the guards. He managed to elbow one in the solar plexus and slam the other against the bars before both simultaneously leapt forward to restrain him and try to drag him back into the prison, hitting him over and over with their batons as they did so. The man ignored the blows, instead gripping a hand onto one of the bars and staring directly into Hanzo’s eyes.

“Do it!” He yelled before a particularly hard hit made him groan and loosen his grip on the bar. The guards took the opportunity to force his other arm behind his back and roughly lead him back through the cell door, slamming it shut behind them and muffling the shouts.  

Hanzo involuntarily lifted a hand to his burning lips, trying desperately to calm the furious racing of his heart as he looked over to Mako who had returned to watch the beating with a cruel sneer on his face.

“Wh-Where are they taking him?” Hanzo asked, cursing himself for not quite being able to keep the shakiness out of his voice.

“To be hanged.” Mako replied gruffly, side-eyeing Hanzo wryly.

"Your five minutes are up," He said, morbid amusement creeping onto his face to twist his mouth into a disturbing parody of  smile.

"But you're welcome to stay for the show."

~~~

News of the hanging spread like wildfire throughout the prison, and it wasn’t long before Hanzo was seated next to the warden on one of the higher levels of the prison for a perfect view of Jesse McCree, as Hanzo recently learned was his name, being pulled up the stairs to the gallows by his chains. Prisoners on every level of the prison stood gathered to shout and jeer at the guards through the bars, and the resulting cacophony was near-deafening.

“I will give you one hundred pounds to save this man’s life.” Hanzo said quickly, trying not to let his desperation show, but the warden just rolled his eyes.

“I would _pay_  that much to see him hang.” Mako rebuffed uncaringly.

“Two hundred pounds.” Hanzo upped his offer, but the warden didn’t even bother tearing his gaze from the gallows.

“Sometime today would be nice!” Mako yelled down to the executioner. 

“Three hundred pounds!”

Down at the gallows, the noose had been looped over McCree’s neck and roughly tightened.

“Any last requests, _cowboy_ _?_ ” The executioner sneered mockingly at him as he adjusted the rope.

“Yeah, loosen the knot an’ let me go.” McCree snarled in return.

The executioner furrowed his brow for a second before turning to shout a question at the warden in Arabic.

A look of pure disbelief stole across Mako’s face.

“Wha-? Of course we don’t let him go! Idiot!” Mako barked incredulously, prompting the guard to give McCree a hard smack upside the head.

“Five hundred pounds!” Hanzo burst out suddenly.

The warden turned sharply to fix Hanzo with an appraising look, holding up a hand to stay the executioner.

“And what else?” The warden asked, eyeing the heavy ring sitting on Hanzo’s right ring finger.

The ring had been forged from pure gold in the fashion of two dragons coiled around each other and devouring the other’s tail, with inlaid sapphires acting as eyes for one and emeralds for the other. It was a beautiful and very valuable piece of jewelry.

But it was also one of the few things Hanzo had left of his parents.

“A ring like that would fetch a pretty price.” The warden said non-chalantly as he made to pluck it off his finger, only for Hanzo to heavily jerk his hand away.

The noise intensified as the prisoners let out mocking laughter and shook their chains at the sight of their warden being so obviously snubbed.

Rage bloomed swiftly in the eyes of the warden.

“Let him hang!”

Hanzo jumped to his feet.

“ _No!_ ”

But it was too late, and the executioner pulled the lever to open the trap door at McCree’s feet.

He fell for what felt like an eternity, but in reality was only a fraction of a second before being jerked to a stop by the rope around his neck to dangle in the air.

Still writhing and gasping for breath?

“Ha!” Mako bit out in amusement. “His neck didn’t break.” The warden looked back over at Hanzo with a cruel smile on his face.

“So sorry to keep you here longer than you’d like, Mr. Shimada.” The warden faux-apologized. “But now we must watch him strangle to death.”

The prison roared with the angry shouts of prisoners being forced to watch one of their own die slowly on the noose, and those gathered on the ground began pushing back against the guards, but Hanzo could barely hear any of it as he sank back down into his chair.

McCree was alive.

There was still a chance.

“He knows the way to Hamunaptra.” Hanzo said, quickly and desperately, and watched in relief as the warden’s face grew slack with shock before being quickly recomposed back to indifference.

“You lie.” Mako spat.

“You think I can afford to lie at a time like this?” Hanzo snarled incredulously.

“Are you telling me,” The warden started skeptically. “That this sorry sack of dried shit knows where to find the _City of the Dead?_ ” 

“Yes.”

“Truly?”

“Yes!” Hanzo cried impatiently. “And if you cut him down we will give you…” Hanzo’s gaze couldn’t help but drift over to the man in question, noticing his struggles starting to grow weaker. “Ten percent.”

Mako looked far from satisfied with that.

“Fifty.”

“Twenty.”

“Forty!”

“Thirty!”

“Twenty-five!”

“Aha!” Hanzo exclaimed in smug triumph. “Deal.”

Hanzo watched as confusion morphed into mortified realization on the warden’s face, and he pressed a hand over his eyes with a groan of angry frustration.

“Cut him down!” Mako barked.  

A great cheer swept over the prison as a guard standing by with a machete quickly severed the rope to allow McCree to fall into a gasping heap on the ground below. Hanzo rose from his seat to stand at the railing and look down at where McCree lay under the gallows, the noose still sitting snugly around his throat. Hanzo had assumed that he had been rendered unconscious by the ordeal, but was pleasantly surprised to see him roll over onto his back to look directly up at where Hanzo stood.

Hanzo couldn’t help but notice his heart starting to race again as he once again locked eyes with McCree.

He _really_ didn’t want to think about what that meant.

~~~

“Do you _really_ think he’s going to show up?” Hanzo asked skeptically as he and Genji maneuvered their way through the hustle and bustle surrounding the Giza Port the next day.

“With my luck? Yes, unfortunately.” Genji answered wryly, waving ever so often at familiar faces he spotted in the crowd. “He may be a cowboy, but I know the type. He won't break his word. _Especially_ since you saved his life.”

The riverboat that they would be taking for the first leg of their journey gently bobbed up and down on the waters of the Nile as passengers boarded the ship and dockhands loaded supplies and led horses up ramps and into the hold. There were easily several hundred people in the port, either perusing the wares of the dockside market or milling around the riverboats for one reason or another.

But no sign of Jesse McCree.

McCree had been quick to disappear after they’d left the prison, stating that he had ‘things’ to take care of before they set out but promising to meet them at the port the following afternoon to begin their trek to Hamunaptra.

“I’ll try not to keep you waitin’ too long, darlin’ ” He’d said with an overly honeyed drawl and a wink before weaving his way through the dissipating crowd and vanishing, the only evidence that he’d even been there at all being the faint blush Hanzo was furious to feel burning across his cheekbones as he turned away to find his brother. 

_Arrogant man._

“Not that you asked, but I think he’s an infuriating, crass and filthy wastrel of a man. Not much more to him than that.” Hanzo bit out haughtily as they approached the boarding ramp to the riverboat.

“Anyone I know?”

Hanzo turned sharply at the familiar voice.

His jaw _dropped._  

Standing before him was a completely different version of McCree than the one he’d met at the prison, and Hanzo couldn’t help taking a long second to look at him.

His long matted hair was now glossy and cut back to jaw-length, his beard expertly trimmed. In place of his ripped, filthy clothing were sand-coloured trousers, brown leather boots, white button-down shirt and a tan overcoat, topped with a vivid red-and-gold keffiyeh wrapped around his throat and an honest-to-god _cowboy hat_ perched on his head.

All in all, the man was _infuriatingly_ handsome.

McCree rose his eyebrows challengingly at Hanzo’s stare, as if daring him to comment.

“Oh,” Hanzo said dumbly instead before bending down to place his and Genji’s suitcases on the ground. He cleared his throat before speaking again. “Hello.”

“Excellent day to start an excellent adventure, right, McCree?” Genji said excitedly from beside him, playfully clapping McCree on the chest like they were old friends and then gripping his hand to give it a firm shake, which McCree half-heartedly returned.

“I wouldn' go as far as to say that.” McCree drawled sarcastically before pointedly checking his pockets to make sure everything was still in its place.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that!” Genji said with a laugh, not insulted in the slightest. “I’d never steal from a partner,” He lightly punched McCree’s arm with a smirk. “Partner.”

A fake smile stole across McCree’s face and he let out a forced chuckle.

“That reminds me, are we gon' have any problems regardin' the…?” McCree said before making a mock-punching motion toward Genji’s jaw.

“No, no,” Genji said with a dismissive hand-wave. “Happens all the time.”

“Mr. McCree.” Hanzo spoke up abruptly , drawing both of their gazes to him. “Can you promise me that all of this isn't some elaborate hoax? I don't think you wish to find out how little I appreciate my time being wasted.”

“Ha! 'S that so?” McCree interrupted with a patronizing smile on his face, stepping forward so that he was just fringing on Hanzo’s personal space.

“Let me put it to you this way.”  McCree said in a tone that was suddenly equal parts flippant and grave. “My whole goddamn garrison believed in that godsfucked city so much that every single one of them abandoned their posts, willingly committing _treason_ , and walked across the damn Sahara to try and claim the treasure."

He took another step forward.

“And not a single one of them managed to survive the bloodbath we found there instead," He chuckled darkly. "Other than yours truly, obviously."

Tried as they might, neither Hanzo nor Genji could find a way to respond to that in a manner that seemed appropriate.

“Let me get your bags.” McCree said casually as he picked up their suitcases after a couple seconds of silence, as if his little rant never happened. Hanzo turned to watch him walk up the boarding ramp, his long legs quickly eating up the distance before he disappeared over the side of the ship.

“ _Yes, yes_ , I see it now.” Genji said in his brother's ear, doing a terrible job of trying to sound sincere as he pointedly glanced at the traitorous blush that had thankfully waited until McCree's back was turned to spread across his face. “Infuriating, crass, a _filthy_ wastrel of a man. Nothing to like there at all, right, brother?” Genji turned to smile innocently in his brother’s face.

“Morning, gentlemen.” A gruff voice growled suddenly from beside them, thankfully saving Hanzo from having to respond to Genji’s far-too-astute line of questioning.

The brothers turned their heads to see Mako, garbed in travel clothing with a large pack slung over his shoulder, passing by them to walk up the boarding ramp as well.

“Oh, _no._ ” Hanzo groaned. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“Gotta protect my investment somehow.” Mako bit out over his shoulder.

The brothers turned to look at each other, eyes simultaneously rolling skyward as identical sighs of annoyance escaped their throats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive!
> 
> Sorry for taking so long with this chapter, goddamn. Here's a really basic breakdown of what happened from the time I posted the last chapter to now. School ramped up for me SUPER HARD and I was literally working on stuff near-constantly for weeks. Because of that, I haven't been able to write much until recently, but I was so excited to keep writing that I basically pounded this out in a few days lol. I'm off school for the next few months and I'll have a lot more free time to write, so the time between updates will (hopefully?) be much shorter :D
> 
> I'd actually like to dedicate this chapter to [Somebody_Someone!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somebody_Someone/pseuds/Somebody_Someone)
> 
> They made a lot of awesome drawings inspired by this story and actually sent a lot of them to me to encourage me when I was stuck unable to spend time on writing this and they're really amazing! You can check them out [here](https://chromatocloo.tumblr.com/post/158670043681/instead-of-sleeping-i-made-some-doodles-based-on?is_related_post=1), [here](https://chromatocloo.tumblr.com/post/159028620531/more-doods-based-on-vestorthedestroyers-ao3), and [here.](https://chromatocloo.tumblr.com/post/159678409706/more-doods-related-to)
> 
> And, as always, thank you all so much for the kudos and comments! Hope you all enjoyed the new chapter


	5. Rolling on the River

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *disclaimer* some dialogue was taken directly from the movie

Moonlight flickered and danced over the waters of the Nile as the riverboat peacefully chugged its way up the river, stirring up gentle waves and eddies in its wake. With the full moon hanging high and the sky filled to near-bursting with stars, it would have been a spectacular view if not for the thick fog that swiftly rose up from the river to drape itself around the ship like a blanket shortly after nightfall.

Just another thing Jesse was thwarted from using to distract himself from the steadily growing dread that clawed at his gut as they got closer and closer to Hamunaptra.

He leaned over the railing anyway, stubbornly staring downward at the inky black water in an attempt to settle his nerves, even when the spent cigarillo he’d just flicked overboard failed to do just that.

It wasn’t working.

“ _Sonuva--“_ Jesse spat angrily as he abruptly pushed himself away from the railing. He had to try his damn hardest not to stomp in frustration all the way back to his room, though the several passengers and riverboat staff that began noticeably avoiding his path informed him that the angry muttering under his breath wasn’t much better.  

It was sheer willpower that kept him from slamming the door shut once he reached his room, barely five minutes after forcing himself outside for some decidedly unhelpful fresh air. But it came at a price as weariness suddenly swept over him, and he slumped backward to lean on the door and stare blankly up at the ceiling.

“Yer goin’ back, whether you like it or not.” Jesse droned out for what had to have been the thousandth time that day, but it didn’t make it any easier to stomach.

Jesse wasn’t a coward, far from it actually, but he had excellent reasons to be anxious about his return to Hamunaptra. He’d been forced to undertake the responsibility of adding to the tally of men that he’d slain, and who would forever remain nameless to him. To witness the deaths of every single member of his garrison save for two gutless cowards, people he’d lived among and known, just to get the barest glimpse of what remained of the great City of the Dead.

Either of those things on their own would be enough to make most men somewhat skittish about ever returning to a place like that, but the pure _malice_ that pervaded the ruined city and drove him screaming into the desert was what was really making Jesse want to jump ship and swim back to Cairo.

He’d foolishly risked his life more times than he could count, and always ended up eagerly coming back for more. But nothing had _ever_ unnerved him so thoroughly like this before.  

He didn’t like it one bit.

Now, in any other circumstances he would have long decided to risk the crocodiles rather than face returning to that evil place. In fact, he probably wouldn’t have even thought about actually showing up to the port, much less voluntarily walking his fool ass onto a riverboat to sail to what would most likely be his doom.

He really would have… if not for the debt he owed.

Jesse covered his eyes with a hand and let out a groan when his traitorous mind replayed every moment that had led to the owing of that debt.

Jesse had been preparing to accept his fate on the end of a noose, thankful that his death would at least be relatively quick, when he’d been abruptly blindsided by Hanzo Shimada appearing before him like an angel from on high.

Now, in his defense, he’d been understandably stressed about his impending date with the gallows. So he felt that he could be forgiven for saying whatever brash or cocky thing happened to pop into his head upon meeting Hanzo.

Jesse also got the oddest sense that the punch he’d laid on his thieving brother’s jaw may have even put him in Hanzo’s good books for a second or two.

Too bad he’d felt the need to immediately ruin it by kissing him like an impulsive dumbass.

Again, in his defense, he’d been under the impression that he was going to die. So he’d thought to himself, ‘Hey, I’m gonna die. May as well kiss the most beautiful man I’ll ever see in my life, right?’

He wasn’t expecting for Hanzo to _actually_ go and manage to bust him out???

It was the one time Jesse had been thankful for things not going according to plan. But like, did he _really_ have to go and ruin the already abysmal chances he had with said beautiful man?

Life just wasn’t fair sometimes.

Jesse sighed heavily and moved forward so he could sling the pack he’d roughly deposited on his bed earlier over his shoulder. He needed a flat surface so he could make sure he had all of his ‘essentials’ and start stashing them away, and he thought he’d spied Hanzo somewhere when he’d been aimlessly wandering around the ship.

Jesse wasn’t going to pretend he was happy about their destination, but he figured he owed it to the man who saved his life to at least _attempt_ to have a civil conversation with him.

He strolled past the cabins, noticeably less tense now that he had a goal to accomplish, and walked into the galley. Roughly a dozen square tables were scattered throughout but only a few were occupied, and Jesse spied almost exactly who he was looking for.

“McCree!” Genji greeted amicably upon noticing him. “Care to join us for a round?” He said, motioning to the playing cards and bills stacked on the table.

“I think I’ll pass on this one, thanks. You seen your brother around?” Jesse asked. He considered warning Genji’s opponents that the man would likely rob them blind whether or not he had a good hand, but stopped when he noticed just who he was playing against. He recognized all three as fellow Americans he’d had the misfortune of repeatedly encountering on the smaller treasure hunts he’d lived off of the last couple years after miraculously surviving the trek across the Sahara back to civilization.

“Yeah, yeah, he’s at a table around the corner.” Genji said absently as he picked up the deck and began to carefully shuffle it.

“Are you sure?” The man to Genji’s right, Harrington, asked with a smile. “We could do with another player.”

As he spoke, Jesse was pretty sure he was the only one to notice a card disappearing into Genji’s sleeve before he swiftly dealt out a hand to each player.

_Called it._

“I’m sure. My life’s the only thing I can get away with gamblin’, after all.”

“’S that so?” The man in the middle, Golosky, drawled out with a nasty smile on his face. “What if I was to bet you five hundred that we beat your sorry ass to Hamunaptra?”

_Goddamn it._

“You fellas lookin’ for Hamunaptra?” Jesse asked faux-casually as he pulled out his case of cigarillos and tugged one out.

“Sure are.” The man at Genji’s left, Favalaro, confirmed with a grin on his face.

“Mm, mhmm.” Jesse grunted out distractedly as he placed the cigarillo in his mouth, pulling out a match and expertly striking it on the wooden table and holding it up to the tip. He extinguished the match with a shake when it flared orange and he took a long drag.  “And jus’ how are you boys plannin’ to find it?” He asked dubiously, smoke billowing from his mouth.

“We got us a man who’s really been there.” Golosky revealed with a smug sneer.

It was probably meant to be demoralizing, but it merely prompted Jesse to lift his gaze to sweep the galley with a sudden intensity in his eyes.

“Do ya now?” Jesse asked as he took another drag from his cigarillo. “A’right then,” He said with a wicked smirk. “You’re on.”

“And what makes you so confident?” Asked a lightly accented voice, belonging to the man sitting primly at the next table with a book perched half-open in his hand. He eyed Jesse with a skeptical look and raised a challenging eyebrow from behind his monocle.

“Jus’ got a real good feelin’ bout it, I ‘spose.” Jesse said casually, his easy smile revealing nothing. “Well, gentlemen, I believe we have a wager.” He said as he turned back to Genji.

“As for you, try an’ stay out of trouble.” Jesse said as he pointedly adjusted one of his sleeves, trying not to take _too_ much satisfaction in the way Genji’s eyes widened slightly before they darted back to his hand.

“No promises, McCree.” He said cheerfully, but just a tad too loudly to be considered casual as he shuffled his cards around.

Jesse left him to it, failing to keep a pleased smirk from drifting onto his face as he walked away.

~~~

Hanzo was right where Genji said he’d be, sitting alone at a table away from the noise and music of the main galley and completely absorbed into what must have been a very interesting book, as he didn’t seem to notice Jesse’s approach.

He swiftly remedied that by heavily dropping his duffel on the table directly in front of Hanzo, earning him a startled flinch and then a glare as he did so.

“Sorry ‘bout that, didn’ mean to scare ya.” Jesse said with a mostly apologetic smile as he took the seat opposite Hanzo, shrugging off his jacket so it hung off the back of his chair and revealing the gun harness strapped to his chest.

“The only thing that scares me is the sheer strength of your arrogance, Mr. McCree.” Hanzo said haughtily as he readjusted his glasses and returned to reading his book.

“Still mad ‘bout that kiss, huh?” Jesse asked, a slight grimace twisting his mouth as he undid the fastenings holding his bag closed.

“Hmph, if you could call _that_ a kiss.” Hanzo replied uninterestedly, barely deigning to lift his eyes from his book to level Jesse with an unimpressed look.  

Ouch.

Well, if he wanted to play it that way…

Jesse met his gaze and, with a wicked glint in his eye, swiftly unrolled his duffel to spread out an assortment of guns, knives and ammunition across the table.

“Um…” Hanzo said slowly as he removed his glasses, and Jesse _really_ had to fight to keep the satisfaction from his face upon hearing the confusion that had replaced the icy indifference in the man’s tone. “Have I missed something, Mr. McCree? Are we heading into a battle?”

“First off? No more of that ‘Mr. McCree’ bullshit. That’s what people called my father, and lord knows I hated that man’s guts. Jus’ McCree or even Jesse is fine.” Jesse replied, barely deigning to lift his eyes from the gun he was loading to level Hanzo with an unimpressed look, which made Hanzo narrow his eyes at him in return.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

“An’ secondly, there’s _somethin’_ out there,” Jesse said, his tone suddenly grave as he tucked his spare pistols into his harness and Peacekeeper into his hip holster before loading up his belt with ammunition. “Somethin’ hidin’ beneath the sand.”

“I’m aware of the myths about the treasure, McCree. My brother’s much more interested in them than I am.” Hanzo said with a roll of his eyes.“I myself believe that there’s a very important artifact buried somewhere in those ruins. A book.” Hanzo said, and then frowned. “What is it that you think is out there?”

“Puttin’ it plainly? Evil.” Jesse replied, glancing up from where he was fiddling with a speedloader. “The Bedouin and Tuaregs think the place is cursed. That don’ worry ya any?”

“It would if I were one to believe in fairytales,” Hanzo scoffed. “But I actually think that one of the most sought after books in all of history may actually be hidden there. The Book of Amun-Ra.” He continued, excitement bleeding into his voice and a pleased smile curving his lips.  

Jesse was, unfortunately, not even kind of ignorant of the way his heart began to race when faced with a smiling Hanzo.

Good God, was he ever in trouble.

“It’s said to contain all of the secret incantations used in the Old Kingdom.” Hanzo continued on, oblivious to Jesse’s inner turmoil. “This is what first interested me in Ancient Egypt as a child. It’s really why I’ve come along on this journey. To fulfil a life’s pursuit.”

“An’ the fact that it’s also said to be made out of pure gold means… nothin’ to you at all, is that right?” Jesse said with a heavy layer of skepticism.

He was caught incredibly off-guard when, instead of getting defensive, Hanzo’s eyes lit up and his smile widened.

Jesse’s heartrate kicked up another notch.

_Fuuuuck._

“You know your history, McCree.” Hanzo said smugly as he crossed his arms over his chest, as if he’d learned one of the world’s best-kept secrets.

Although, he _kind_ of did.

Jesse had also gotten very interested in Ancient Egypt as a kid, and had read and re-read all of the books he could find in the library that served the backwater town he was unfortunate enough to be born in. He had even formally studied Ancient History for a couple of years before deciding he was better off using his knowledge to find the treasures of the Old World for himself instead of putting them into a museum to collect dust.

It was something he ruthlessly kept hidden, preferring his image as a rugged treasure hunter rather than a history buff, and he did _not_ like being figured out so quickly.

“I know my treasure.” Jesse corrected defensively, hoping it would be enough to distract the man from his little discovery, but Hanzo just smirked at him knowingly.

“Of course, of course,” Hanzo agreed in a patronizing tone, and Jesse groaned internally as he realized the man would never let him live it down.

As he decided to distract himself by tucking away his assortment of knives in the usual places, Hanzo spoke up again, hesitantly.

“By the way, why _did_ you kiss me?” He asked quietly, and if Jesse didn’t know better, he could’ve sworn he saw a faint blush colouring Hanzo’s cheekbones before he stilled in his movements and gave a heavy sigh.

“I really wish I could give you an answer that would make me come across as less of an asshole.” Jesse started, a tad self-consciously. “But honestly? I thought I’d be dead within the hour and figured ‘Why not?’ You threw me for one hell of a loop when you followed through and actually saved my sorry hide, darlin’.”

“Hmph, I respect your honesty at least.” Hanzo said in a somewhat clipped tone as he abruptly pushed his chair backward to stand and leave. Hanzo hesitated for a moment as he passed Jesse, then visibly relented as he turned back to level him with a cool stare.

“If we are indeed to be heading into combat, I prefer to use a bow.” Hanzo said casually, ignoring the way Jesse’s jaw dropped upon learning that particular piece of information. “For future reference, if we truly are to be fighting together. Good night, McCree.” He said quietly before walking away.

“Damn,” Jesse breathed to himself as he watched him go.

He sat sprawled in his seat for a few seconds, a bit breathless admittedly, when his attention was drawn away by a rhythmic rustling sound emanating from behind some stacks of luggage. Upon further inspection, he noticed a silhouette of a man crouched on the ground starkly cast against a wall, struggling to remain still and unnoticed.

A _very_ familiar silhouette.

_Found ya, you little rat._

Jesse strolled over and darted a hand behind a pile of luggage to forcibly drag none other than Jamison Fawkes out from behind an ornate chest.

“McCree! So good to see you alive!” Jamison choked out from behind the grip Jesse had on his collar. “I was _absolutely_ sick with worry.”

“Well, well, well, if it ain’t my best friend, Jamison.” Jesse drawled out sarcastically as he pinned him to a support pole. “I think I’ll kill you.” He said casually as he had Peacekeeper drawn and cocked in the blink of an eye.

“Wait! Think of my kids, mate!” Jamison begged.

“You don’ _got_ any kids.” Jesse said with a narrowing of his eyes.

“…Someday I might.”

“Shut up.” Jesse said as he gave him a full-body shake. “I _figured_ it was you who was leadin’ the Americans. So what’s the scam, hmm? Take ‘em out for a good wander in the desert and then leave ‘em for vulture bait?”

“Ha! I wish!” Jamison laughed humourlessly. “Bastards only paid half upfront. I get the rest when I get ‘em back to Cairo.”

“Well, that’s jus’ how it shakes out sometimes, ain’t it?” Jesse said faux-sympathetically as he released him, holstering his revolver and taking a half step back.  

Jamison brushed himself off and gave his neck a good twist until it cracked, keeping his eyes warily on Jesse as he did so. “You never believed in Hamunaptra, McCree. So why in the bloody hell are ya going back?”

A loud braying suddenly drew their attention to the other end of the ship, to where Hanzo was negotiating with a camel to stop gnawing on his sleeve while he awkwardly petted it on its head to try and sweeten the deal.

“You see that man over there?” Jesse said, directing Jamison’s attention to his traveling companion as he successfully freed himself with a grin, but continued to pet the camel. “He saved my life.”

Jamison glanced back and forth between Hanzo’s retreating form and the look on Jesse’s face a couple of times before he suddenly let out a short cackle and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Bet that’s not the only reason, eh, McCree?” He said lowly, a mocking smile plastered on his face as he playfully nudged Jesse’s ribs with an elbow.

Jesse chuckled unashamedly, and they began to laugh together conspiratorially as he slung a friendly arm around Jamison’s shoulders and guided him a few steps forward.

“Heh, yeah,” Jesse said, his chuckles slowly dying off. “Goodbye, Jamison.”

Before Jamison could even blink, Jesse grabbed two handfuls of his shirt and used them to toss him up and over the railing and into the Nile where he landed with a scream and a splash.

“MCCREE, YOU FUCKING COCKSUCKER!!!” Jamison sputtered from the water below. “MCCREE!!”

Jesse happily ignored the angry shouts as he strolled back over to the table to pack away his duffel. As he approached the table his foot unexpectedly slid forward a bit, which prompted him to look down at the floor to see what he had stepped in.

He wasn’t expecting to see a line of wet footprints trailing down the deck of the ship.

Jesse leaned over the railing, feeling alarm suddenly burning through his veins when he saw a long, wooden canoe attached to the side of the riverboat.

“Shit!” Jesse growled as he pulled out Peacekeeper and stealthily followed the footprints, at least, until he realized that the trail was leading directly to the cabins.

_Hanzo._

Jesse abandoned stealth and barreled down the hallway.

~~~

Meanwhile, Hanzo busied himself by preparing to go to sleep. The cup of tea he’d requested earlier was waiting for him in his cabin, steam still curling around the top, when he’d returned from the unfortunately enlightening (in more ways than one) chat he’d had with McCree, and he nearly groaned aloud in relief.

“At least one part of this trip has gone as planned.” Hanzo said to himself as he took a grateful sip, then grimaced when he tasted the tea and deemed it horribly overbrewed.

“I spoke too soon.” He sighed in annoyance as he set the tea back on the table where he found it, distaste evident.

Hanzo started moving aimlessly around the room, knowing he should be trying to get some sleep, but finding himself unbearably restless and distracted. He picked up the book he’d been reading earlier and flipped through the pages, but stopped when he realized he wasn’t absorbing anything from the text. Then he started straightening the covers on the bed, but stopped when he realized how pointless it was when he would be shortly pulling them back again to go to sleep.

“Oh, pull it together! It wasn’t even that good of a kiss _anyway._ ” Hanzo growled in frustration, cursing the exact cause of his restlessness as he stalked over to stare ruefully at himself in the room’s vanity mirror. His movements, exaggerated by annoyance, had him bumping his hip into the counter and knocking the book he’d set there down to the ground. He rolled his eyes heavenward, and then bent down to pick it up. As he rose, he resumed making eye contact with his reflection.

Except it had been joined by a man robed in black standing directly behind him.  

“ _Shit!_ ” Hanzo barked out in startled surprise, swiftly turning around to throw an expertly aimed punch at the other man’s throat. His strike was quickly blocked, so Hanzo threw two more punches at him in quick succession. On the second punch, the man caught his fist and twisted it painfully behind his back. Just as Hanzo was preparing to break free from the hold, a razor-sharp knife was pressed threateningly to his throat and he was forced to cease his struggles.

“Where is the map?” The man growled in his ear, slightly increasing the pressure of the knife on his throat threateningly.

“Over there.” Hanzo snarled after a moment, pointing his free hand toward the small table where the remains of the map were laid flat.

“And where is the key?” The man asked impatiently.

“Key?” Hanzo asked bewilderedly in return. “What key?”

“ _Hanzo!_ ” McCree’s voice suddenly boomed out from behind the locked cabin door, which didn’t remain locked for long as he kicked it down. He pointed his revolver directly at the man holding Hanzo captive, then lowered it slightly when he noticed him being held in front like a human shield.  

A distraction arose when another black-robed man kicked open the window covering and leaned into the room with a pistol in each hand. Before he had a chance to start firing, McCree fanned the hammer on his revolver to unload five shots in quick succession into the man’s chest, with the last one unfortunately straying and knocking an oil lamp off the wall, setting the couch and most of the room ablaze as it landed. 

Hanzo felt his captor’s grip loosen slightly on his arm, and took the opportunity to jerk himself out of the hold and pick up a heavy candlestick, striking the man hard on the nose and sending him to his knees with a pained cry.

Another black-robed man approached the window and began firing at them until McCree stepped forward to block Hanzo out of view, returning fire until they had made it out into the hallway.

“Damn! I forgot the map!” Hanzo cried out in frustration upon remembering. He turned back to fetch it, but didn’t get very far before he felt a hand grab him by his bicep and swing him back around.

“Relax, darlin’,” McCree drawled out in what he probably thought was a comforting tone. “I’m the map. Everything we need is all up here.” He pointed at his temple.

“I am sure that was meant to inspire confidence.” Hanzo said sarcastically as they ran side-by-side down the hallway.

~~~

“Hanzo!” Genji called fearfully as he made his way down the burning hallway to the cabins, searching desperately for his brother as soon as he’d noticed the black smoke billowing throughout the ship. He ran a little faster when he finally spied the door to his brother’s room.

“Hanzo!” Genji called again as he barreled into the room, accidentally shoulder-checking a man standing in the doorway into falling on top of the burning couch, his long black robes quickly catching fire.

Genji’s eyes darted quickly around the room as the man screamed in agony as he burned, and his eyes quickly lit upon the puzzle box sitting on the floor. He darted forward to grab it, and just narrowly missed having his hand impaled by a long, silver knife as the black-robed man went for the box as well, despite being in the midst of immolation.

Genji leapt backward out into the hallway as the man got to his feet and charged. The man tried to slash at Genji with the knife, but he expertly countered by kicking upward to knock it out of the man’s hand before landing a powerful roundhouse kick into his chest and sending him staggering back into the room.

Genji made sure to tuck the puzzle box safely into his pocket as he sprinted back to the main galley, where he happened upon the group of Americans he’d been playing cards with gathered behind a makeshift barrier of tables, chairs and luggage. They were shooting wildly into the assailants attacking the boat, cheering and whistling as they did so and completely ignoring the flinches and protests from Sanjay, their poor guide as he hid behind them with his hands clamped over his ears.

Genji rolled his eyes. “ _Americans._ ” He said beseechingly to the sky, as if asking for strength from on high.

Genji had only been staring at the sky for a split second when the burning man suddenly burst into the galley, once again holding the wickedly sharp knife. He let out an inhuman shriek of rage when he spotted Genji and darted forward, forcing Genji to press himself back against the railing of the ship to dodge his crazed strike.

Just as the knife was about to cut into him, the man’s body suddenly jerked from the impact of one bullet, then another, and another before he collapsed through a canvas screen strung between two railings and landed with a splash in the Nile. 

Genji looked up to see Harrington holding his smoking pistol with one hand on the hammer, and Genji gave him a grateful nod.

“Thanks for the assist, gentlemen!” He said cheerfully with a salute before he fished the artifact out of his pocket.

“And once again, Genji saves the day.” He said smugly, already looking forward to seeing the look on Hanzo’s face when he presented him with the box.

If he’d made it off safely, that is…

The deeply worried turn his musings were starting to take was interrupted by a chunk of burning roof abruptly crashing to the deck mere inches from his toes.

Genji jumped back with a startled yell, he _refused_ to admit it was a scream.

“Time to go.” He said quickly before stashing the box back into his pocket and diving into the river.

~~~

Jesse and Hanzo burst through the flaming doorway out onto the lower deck, thankfully just in time to spot Genji across the ship jumping safely into the water. They paused for a few seconds to survey the flames that had engulfed the riverboat, with splashes ringing out from the river below as people began abandoning the ship in droves.

Jesse grabbed his duffel from where it was still sitting on the table and slung it over his shoulder, but was kept from walking any further by Hanzo’s hard grip on his forearm.

“Give me one of your guns.” He said sharply, holding out an expectant hand.

“Do you even know how to use one?” Jesse asked dubiously even as he handed over one of his spare revolvers.

“I said that I prefer to use a bow, not that I’m unfamiliar with guns.” Hanzo said curtly, expertly popping out the cylinder to check the bullets before slamming it back into place.

Jesse couldn’t help but stare intently at the man before him, as if seeing him for the first time.

“…What?” Hanzo asked warily after a few seconds.

“I’m sensin’ you got some stories to you, Mr. Shimada.” Jesse said as he pressed his back against the wall and peered around the corner. He jerked back as he was swiftly spotted by another robed man leaning over the railing of the middle deck, narrowly avoiding the bullet that was meant for his skull.

“If we survive, perhaps I’ll tell you some.” Hanzo said flippantly as he got himself into position beside Jesse.

“Sounds delightful.” Jesse said as he turned his head to meet Hanzo’s eyes before visibly counting back from three with his fingers. When he reached zero, the two of them quickly stepped from behind the wall and shot up at their attacker. Hanzo sent up shots that drove the man skittering with his head down along the railing until he resurfaced and resumed shooting, at least until Jesse felled him with a single, patiently lined up shot.

“Bullets.” Hanzo said in a monotone, and Jesse quickly dug in one of his hip pouches to deposit a handful of bullets into Hanzo’s waiting hand.

They continued to make their way through the ship, with Hanzo spotting and laying down covering fire while Jesse took out their attackers with his higher-calibre rounds. They spied the edge of the riverboat and were preparing to jump over the railing and safely into the water.

At least until they were forced to lurch back when yet another black-robed man launched himself over the side of the ship and onto the deck.

Hanzo quickly leapt forward and delivered a sharp strike to the man’s chest before following it up with a back kick, propelling the man forward to where Jesse sent him crumpling to the ground with a brutal left-handed haymaker across his jaw.

“Please, after you. I insist.” Jesse said as he gestured to the railing with exaggerated politeness, a hand pressed to his chest.

“You’re _far_ too kind.” Hanzo said sarcastically as he primly climbed over the railing and dove into the water.

Just as Jesse was about to do the same, his shoulders were abruptly grasped by large hands and he was spun around to look at Mako, whom Jesse had honestly forgotten about less than five minutes after boarding the ship that morning.

“What are we going to do, McCree?” He said, an uncharacteristic note of panic laced into his rumbling voice.

“A’right. You wait right here, I’ll go get help.” Jesse said as he pointed a thumb toward the river before climbing over the railing and jumping in.

Mako remained there on the burning ship obediently for a few seconds, before realization swept over him and he snarled in frustration.

“I’m gonna fucking kill ‘im” He growled before vaulting over the railing and into the water.

~~~

Angry shouts and the terrified whinnying of horses rang out from the other side of the river as Jesse, Hanzo, Genji and Mako waded through the water to the riverbank.  

“We have nothing now!” Hanzo barked out as he angrily kicked his way through the water. “How are we supposed to continue on when all of our supplies and equipment are burning up in the middle of the _fucking_ Nile?!”  

Hanzo bent down to fish a rock out of the mud, chucking it so hard that it actually managed to hit the side of the still-burning ship with a distant _clack!_ He went to search for another when Jesse sidled up next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He snarled and turned with a fist drawn back, but Jesse spoke quickly before he had a chance to attack.

“It’s a one hell of a setback, darlin’, no two ways about it. But losin’ your head like this ain’t gon’ do you any favours. You should be grateful we all made it out in one piece.” Jesse said lowly as he glanced over to where Genji stood, staring out blankly over the water just a few steps away.

A guilty look stole across Hanzo’s face before he sighed. “Perhaps you are right.” He said as he broke away from Jesse’s hand to approach his brother. Jesse watched as he slung an arm around his shoulders and chuckled when Hanzo let out a startled squawk as Genji abruptly turned to wrap his arms around him in a bonecrushing hug, but quickly returned it with equal force.

“MCCREE! OI, MCCREE!” A voice yelled from the other side of the river, and the three of them stood together as they spotted Jamison jumping up and down on the other side of the river in the midst of several horses being led out of the water.

“LOOKS TO ME LIKE I’VE GOT ALL THE HORSES, MATE!” He cackled gleefully with both middle fingers raised.

“HEY, JAMISON?” Jesse yelled back with a wide grin on his face, not perturbed in the slightest.

“LOOKS TO ME LIKE YOU’RE ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE RI-VERRRR!” He singsonged mockingly, laughing heartily when he could see the sudden look of dismay that came over Jamison’s face even at this distance.

“We should get goin’.” Jesse said as his chuckles died down. “There’s a Bedouin trading post a few hours walk from here. We can resupply there.”

The four of them turned to leave, but not before they heard a screech of “GODFUCKING DAMN IT!” ring out from the opposite riverbank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for all of the kudos and comments last chapter! :D
> 
> [Somebody_Someone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somebody_Someone/pseuds/Somebody_Someone) made some more awesome artwork for the last chapter!!! You can find it right [here](https://chromatocloo.tumblr.com/post/160341512601/have-a-kiss-yall-%C2%B3-from)


	6. Hidden Between the Moon and the Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *disclaimer* some dialogue taken directly from the movie

Even though it was only a couple of hours past dawn, the Bedouin trading post was bustling with people. Children ran shrieking with laughter through the maze of people crowded around the tents to peruse the wares, giving a wide berth to those locked in heated discussion with traders over prices.

Jesse spun to dodge a pair of boys sprinting past him with wide grins on their faces, chuckling good-naturedly as he adjusted the cloth-wrapped bundle of his purchase and watched them disappear into the crowd of people. He turned to continue walking when he watched a younger girl come jogging to a stop and look intently at the people milling around, frowning in frustration when her search appeared to turn up nothing.

Jesse let out a short, sharp whistle through his teeth to get her attention, and she turned her head to look at him in confusion.

“ _They went that way._ ” Jesse said lowly as he jabbed a thumb in the direction the boys had disappeared in, reasonably sure his Arabic was close enough to the Bedawi dialect to get his point across. He silently congratulated himself as the girl’s face lit up in a smile and she took off sprinting in the direction he’d indicated.

“ _Thank you!”_ She cried over her shoulder as she too disappeared in the crowd.

“Give ‘em hell, sweetheart.” Jesse chuckled to himself as he continued on his way through the marketplace, making his way back to the camel herders where he’d left Genji and Hanzo with the task of securing them mounts for the rest of the journey.

“Finished scouring the market for something to impress my brother?” A voice suddenly said from beside him.

Jesse jerked his head to the side to see Genji suddenly walking alongside him, a shit-eating grin on his face and a long scimitar in a sheath strapped to his back.

“First off, that’s not what I was doing. Secondly, why do you have a sword?” Jesse asked in confusion as he looked intently at the weapon in question. The hilt of the sword was made of a stunning combination of dark gold metal and polished black stone, and the crossguard was ornamented with an intricately wrought metal diamond and an oval cut piece of turquoise inlaid in the centre. “A really nice sword, at that.”

“You like it?” Genji asked enthusiastically, effectively distracted from his previous line of questioning as he carefully pulled it out to show him the black metal of the wickedly sharp blade, and Jesse let out an impressed whistle. “It seemed foolish to continue going unarmed when it’s clear the treasure isn’t about to be given up without a fight. Guns are fun and all, but nothing beats a good sword.”

“You ever hear of the phrase ‘don’t bring a knife to a gunfight’?” Jesse asked amusedly with an arched brow.

“You won’t be saying that when you see me use this lovely lady.” Genji bragged confidently.

“It’s a lady?” Jesse asked laughingly.

“Of course it is!” Genji defended mock-seriously. “It’s both beautiful and deadly, ergo, a lady.”

“Well, can’t argue with that logic.” Jesse conceded as Genji sheathed his sword and they continued making their way through the market. “I thought I left you and your brother at the herders’ pavilion to get us some rides, though. What d’ya do? Disappear as soon as Hanzo turned his back?”

“At any other time, the answer to that question would be a resounding ‘yes’,” Genji admitted. “But this time he actually told me to leave. He said, and I quote, ‘I’m trying to get a read on their personalities, Genji, and I can’t do that if you’re distracting me.’” He said mockingly in what was actually an impressively accurate impersonation of his brother.

“He did _not_ say that.” Jesse denied incredulously.

“What can I say?" Genji said with a shrug. "My brother’s got a thing for animals, and I guess he’s decided that camels are his new favourite. He’s probably already given them names.”

“You’re shittin’ me!” Jesse said, laughing heartily now.

“I shit you not, McCree. This is something Hanzo takes very seriously.” Genji informed him with a serious look on his face but his eyes full of mirth.

“At least we know we’ll get the best camels to be found here.” Jesse pointed out with a grin as they rounded a corner and the herder’s pavilion came into view, and they quickly spied Hanzo sitting under the shade of a date palm tree.

Along with four camels happily crowded around him.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Jesse said with a hint of awe in his voice.

Two of the camels lay comfortably on either side of him, while the other two curled up on the ground in front of him with their heads resting in his lap. Hanzo was busy lavishing them all with pets when he noticed Jesse and Genji approaching, but he merely tilted his head up to look up at them and continued petting the camels.

“I was wondering if the two of you had gotten lost.” Hanzo murmured with a smirk as he peered up at them, shooing one of the camels away when he caught it trying to nibble at the golden ribbon holding his hair up off his neck, the motion inadvertently drawing Jesse’s attention to the navy blue keffiyeh he was now sporting around his throat. It was the exact same shade as the tattoo Jesse had spied hints of on his left arm when the sleeve of his shirt occasionally rode up, and was probably what inspired the purchase.

“Had to go to the centre of the market to arrange for food, water and supplies to be delivered here, so I figured I was justified in havin’ myself a good wander ‘round on my way back.” Jesse said, tilting up the brim of his hat with a finger to gift Hanzo with a wink. “But I see you’ve gotten comfy here with your new friends while we’ve been gone.”

“Yeah, and I got a sword!” Genji yelled excitedly before Hanzo had a chance to respond to Jesse’s teasing, turning around with a jump to show Hanzo the scimitar in its sheath and pointing at it with both  thumbs.

“Of course you did.” Hanzo said with a roll of his eyes before gently lifting the camels’ heads out of his lap and clambering to his feet. “And they’re not my friends. I simply chose the coolest place to sit and wait for your return. It’s not my fault that they agreed with my choice in location.”

“Uh-huh, I’m sure.” Jesse said skeptically before casually pointing out the camel nudging Hanzo’s shoulder with its nose. “What’s that one named?”

“Kinoko.” Hanzo said absently as he lightly pushed the camel’s head away. His eyes widened in mortification when he realized he’d been tricked into saying too much, and he ground the heel of his palm into his eyes with a groan when both Jesse and Genji burst into peals of laughter.

“I told you!” Genji crowed triumphantly as he clutched his stomach.

“You sure did.” Jesse giggled helplessly, trying to stop but losing it once again when Hanzo opened the eye not being crushed into his skull to level them both with a glare.

“Will the both of you _shut up?”_ Hanzo said exasperatedly, though it was softened by the reluctantly amused smile that spread across his face.

“Okay, okay, nii-chan.” Genji said placatingly. “We’ll stop harassing you and your only frien-OW!” He cried out abruptly when Hanzo laid a sharp two-fingered flick to his brother’s temple in passing.

“So sorry, you had a fly on your head.” Hanzo said innocently. “Nothing else I could do.”

“Yeah, I’m _sure._ ” Genji retorted sarcastically as he rubbed his head, following behind as Hanzo gave two of the camels’ leads to Jesse and led them to the corner of the pavilion where the supplies Jesse had purchased were waiting for them.

“Where’d Mako get off to?” Jesse asked unenthusiastically as they began loading up the camels.

“It took me a good half hour to even realize he’d wandered off, so I don’t have a clue.” Hanzo replied with an indifferent shrug, adjusting the saddlebags on each camel so the weight of them sat as comfortably as possible on their backs.

“Maybe he got lost?” Genji said with barely concealed hope in his voice just as the man in question lumbered out of a tent less than twenty feet away, arguing sharply with the gaggle of women that followed who were shrieking with anger and smacking every part of his body that they could reach in an effort to force him away.

“God, fine, I’m leaving!” Mako muttered harshly under his breath as he spotted them with the camels and strolled over to them confidently, as if they didn’t just witness him being chased out of a tent by women who were at the very least in their fifties. “We ready to get goin’, or what?”

“Indeed we are, no thanks to you.” Hanzo said bitingly as he swung up and over to sit in Kinoko’s saddle.

“Then let’s get a move on already, goddamn.” Mako rumbled in annoyance as he approached the camel with the sturdiest looking frame, trying and failing to step up high enough to swing himself up into the saddle.

“Think we should help him?” Genji asked with a raised brow, the three of them already sitting on their camels and watching Mako’s miserable attempts to clamber onto his mount.  

“Nah, he’ll catch up. Let’s get goin’.” Jesse said with a dismissive wave of his hand as he turned to lead the way.

“Sounds like a smart idea to me.” Hanzo said smugly as he and Genji followed without even a hint of hesitation.

“Well how ‘bout that. I believe you just paid little ol’ me a compliment, sugar.” Jesse said, purposefully playing up his accent just to be irritating.

“Don’t let it go to your head, cowboy.” Hanzo fired back with a smirk.

Genji found himself suddenly very grateful that he’d been relegated to bringing up the rear, because it meant neither Hanzo nor Jesse could see him rolling his eyes at them.

~~~

Even after three years, that felt a lot shorter than they actually were, the path to Hamunaptra wasn’t one Jesse could easily forget.

Unfortunately.

The hours blurred together as Jesse led their group across the seemingly endless expanse of desert that lay between them and the City of the Dead. Over dunes that seemed as high as mountains at times and through washes that distorted the air with how much heat they radiated, making it difficult to see at times.

The camels didn’t seem to pay the harsh conditions any mind, being built to withstand the desert even at its cruelest, and dutifully trekked onward.

The unbearably hot temperatures of the days in the Sahara are sharply contrasted by the frosty chill of its nights. While sand does an excellent job of keeping the desert characteristically overheated by reflecting sunlight during the day like a diabolical mirror, its blistering warmth is immediately stripped the moment the sun dips down below the horizon.

Jesse barely noticed the cold, even as the wind picked up and sharpened the chill just that much more. Instead he stared blankly across the sand, toned blue with the slight lightening of the sky signalling that the night was drawing to a close. His camel (Azuki, he managed to pry from Hanzo only after he'd asked nicely) let out a mournful bray, and it echoed eerily across the sand.

Jesse could finally see a familiar looking ridge in the distance that marked the way to Hamunaptra, meaning that the long hours of travelling through the fickle sands of the Sahara were coming to an end. At the pace they were going, they would arrive just before dawn.

Unfortunately.

Jesse was broken from the trance-like state he had fallen into from a combination of exhaustion and dread when he felt something nudge against his arm. He turned to push it away, thinking it was one of the camels bothering him for food, but stopped when he saw black hair resting on his shoulder.

Hanzo had fallen asleep in his saddle like Genji and Mako behind him a couple hours before, lulled into rest by the rhythmic swaying of the walking camel. It looked like his weight had shifted a bit in the saddle and guided Kinoko into walking directly alongside Azuki. This allowed Hanzo, likely sleepily searching for a source of warmth, to use his shoulder as a pillow.

He had a mind to be annoyed, but it honestly made the man just that much more endearing.

Jesse was content to let Hanzo rest against him for a little while. He needed to stay awake himself to make sure they didn’t end up wandering aimlessly into the desert, but he wanted Hanzo to get as much sleep as possible. Jesse had made this journey before, and had at least some idea of the evil they would find there. Hanzo had no idea what he was getting himself and his brother into, and Jesse damnably found himself growing fonder of the pair the longer he spent with them.

It was far too late to turn back, so Jesse wanted to give them every advantage he could to make it through the City of the Dead without becoming one of its denizens.

The small smile that Jesse didn’t even realize curled his lips vanished when he heard the whinnying of horses in the distance. He dragged his eyes up to the top of a cliff a few hundred feet away and, sure enough, saw a line of at least a dozen figures swathed in black seated on horseback.

This was familiar too.

Hanzo suddenly shivered in his sleep, and Jesse looked down to watch him nuzzle further into his shoulder like a cat, a frown creasing the space between his eyebrows.

This time Jesse was aware of the smile that spread across his face when he gazed down at Hanzo. He gently and reluctantly guided Hanzo back to sitting up in his saddle, but pulled a blanket out of one of his own saddlebags and draped it over his shoulders.

When Jesse looked back up at the cliff, the figures on horseback were gone.

He had a feeling they’d be seeing them later, though.

Jesse ponderings had him inadvertently digging his heels slightly into Azuki’s flanks, prompting the camel to stroll just a little bit faster.

Because of this, Hanzo was well out of Jesse’s field of view when his eyes fluttered open, and he drew the blanket a little tighter around his shoulders with a sleepy smile.

~~~

Jesse knew that they would be losing an ungodly amount of time on Jamison and the group he was leading to Hamunaptra when they were on horseback, wrong side of the river or not.

Still, it didn’t make it any less infuriating when Hanzo spied the near-literal stampede of their competitors’ party at a distance, and Jesse had to get closer and closer to Jamison’s smug face from his perch atop a particularly mangy looking camel without being able to punch it.

“Spectacular morning, innit?” Jamison said with a voice that evoked an image of a particularly satisfied oil slick in Jesse’s mind as Golosky, Harrington, Favalaro, Sanjay and their crew of excavators trotted to a stop behind him.

Jesse looked at him disdainfully from the corners of his eyes without bothering to fully turn his head, and pointedly didn’t reply.

“Don’t forget about our bet, McCree.” Favalaro reminded with a confident smirk as he gave their camels a dismissive once-over. “Five hundred cash to the one who makes it to the city first.”

“A hundred of that’s yours if you help us win that bet.” Golosky said, addressing Jamison but looking directly at Jesse with a nasty smile.

“It’ll be my pleasure, mate.” Jamison accepted eagerly, not-so-subtly flipping Jesse the bird as he turned to stare over skyline. Jesse barely even noticed, instead lightly nudging Hanzo’s bicep with an elbow to get his attention.

Both groups sat in silence for a few seconds, staring out over the sand where the sky was painted with an array of purples and reds and golds, but the sun had yet to start peeking over the horizon.

“Get ready for it.” Jesse murmured lowly without taking his eyes off the skyline. Hanzo looked back and forth between the ever-lightening sky and Jesse’s face a couple times, clearly not certain what he was missing.

“Ready for what?” He asked in confusion.

“We’re about to be shown the way.”

~~~

Hanzo wasn’t really sure what McCree meant by that, but as he turned his eyes back and watched the sun finally start creeping up over the horizon, he witnessed something extraordinary.

The rays of the fledgling sunrise quickly flooded the desert with a blanket of shimmery mirages. As the sun slowly eased its way into the sky, Hanzo sucked in a breath as a tall golden mirage was efficiently stripped away to reveal the half buried remains of Hamunaptra.

Hanzo barely paid attention to the loud exclamations of awe from their rivals, but the quiet “Here we go again.” He heard McCree say desolately under his breath had him turning away from his first glimpse of the place he’d dreamed of seeing since he was a child to look at the man beside him with concern. Before he could say anything however , the sun had fully risen and banished the last of the mirages shrouding the city from view.

The spell broken, Jamison let out a loud whoop and hit the flank of his camel to stir it into motion. McCree let out a fierce battle cry and followed suit to urge Azuki into a sprint. Hanzo snapped Kinoko’s reins and cried “ _Onward!”_ in Japanese, and his camel immediately darted off to catch up with McCree and Jamison.

Hanzo heard the pounding of hooves rumbling like thunder behind him as all the riders set off on the race to Hamunaptra, but he didn’t care as he continually praised Kinoko for her speed as her long legs quickly moved them closer and closer to the head of the pack.

Meanwhile, McCree edged up alongside Jamison. Both of them feverishly urged their mounts to move faster, but to no avail as they remained neck and neck.

“Ow, fuck off!” Jesse yelled as he felt the sting of a stick crop whacking him in the shoulder, and was forced to block the blows with a forearm to prevent getting whacked in the face as Jamison tried to hit him off his camel. Jesse was far past fed up after the fourth hit, and gripped Jamison by the collar before he could wind up for another one.

“Happy trails, Jamison!” Jesse said cheerfully before yanking Jamison off his saddle and dropping him roughly on the ground below.

The only attention Hanzo paid to Jamison’s prone form was to steer Kinoko around him before finally catching up to McCree. Their eyes met as Kinoko came shoulder to shoulder with Azuki, and Hanzo couldn’t restrain the delighted laughter that bubbled up in his throat as they raced like the wind to reach the city.

McCree’s mouth twitched as if fighting the urge to smile as Hanzo steadily caught up to him, but his obvious joy was incredibly contagious and it wasn’t long before a radiant grin spread over his face and his booming laughter filled the air as well.

They ran together like that for a few moments, before Hanzo had to clutch the side of his saddle to steady himself when Kinoko suddenly put on another burst of speed to pull well ahead of Azuki. He quickly and confidently regained his equilibrium however, and grabbed the reins in one hand to confidently steer his mount through the sand and rocks.

“Yeah!” Genji whooped from behind them, pumping a fist into the air. “Go, Hanzo, go!”

Hanzo could hear McCree riding right on his tail as he maneuvered past a crumbling wall and up a stone ramp but didn’t look back as he cleared the hump at the top with a victorious cry, indisputably entering the city first.

Because of this, Jesse was well out of Hanzo’s field of view when he placed an awed hand over his racing heart, not even trying to convince himself that the warmth he felt spreading across his face was from the sun.

~~~

“The legs of that statue of Anubis go very deep underground. It would’ve stood at least twenty five feet tall when this place was in its prime.” Hanzo said, not quite managing to keep the excitement from his voice as they cleared the last of the rubble away from the hole they’d managed to pry open to access the buried depths of the city. The other group of explorers was preparing to do the same, but on the opposite side of the ruins. Hanzo could still hear the whinnying of horses and shouts of the excavators faintly despite the distance, but their presence was otherwise completely ignored as they found their own entrance to the city. “According to the Adawe scholars, that’s where we’ll find a hidden compartment holding the book of Amun-Ra.”

“There’s somethin’ shinin’ down there.” Jesse said as he pulled on the knot tying their rappelling rope to a thick stone pillar to make sure the strength was to his liking. Hanzo looked down into the hole and, sure enough, something at the bottom was partially reflecting the sunlight that angled in.

“Looks like light won’t be too much of a problem.” Hanzo said brightly, and was met with a look of skeptical confusion from McCree. “You’ll see when we get down there.”

“I’m sure you’re right, but I’m bringin’ torches anyway.” McCree said, narrowing his eyes mistrustfully down at the darkness as if expecting it to jump up and attack him. Before he could question McCree on his odd demeanour however, he had shuffled closer to Hanzo and pulled a long cloth-wrapped bundle from the loops on top of his duffel.

“Forgot to give this to you.” McCree mumbled, not looking directly at him as he handed him the bundle. Hanzo took it from him, and carefully unwrapped the rough linen to reveal a bow, a coiled length of bowstring, and a tight bundle of at least twenty arrows with black and white fletching.

“Got this back at the tradin’ post. Y’said you to prefer to use a bow, and I thought you might like it better than one o’ my guns, ‘specially when people may or may not shoot at us, and stuff.” McCree said disjointedly with a self-conscious smile, making awkward finger guns at him as he turned back to the hole.

“The fuck you lookin’ at?” McCree growled at a positively beaming Genji as he passed him, but Hanzo was too busy smiling down at the pale wood of the simple, but beautiful recurve bow McCree had gifted him with to pay much attention. He expertly strung the bow and plucked it to check the tension, then pulled his head and torso through the gap to sling it comfortably across his back. He made a makeshift quiver for the arrows by strategically wrapping the leftover cloth around the bundle, making sure that it was loose enough for him to easily pluck an arrow from before using the two loose ends to tie it securely to his belt so the arrows sat within easy access on his left hip.

“You better keep an eye out for bugs when you’re down there, McCree.” Mako growled menacingly as McCree took a hold of the rope to swing down. “I fuckin’ hate bugs.”

McCree went to roll his eyes heavenward, but only made it about halfway before his gaze stopped on Hanzo outfitted with his weapon of choice. They shared a smile before McCree tipped his hat at him with a wink and swung down into the chamber.  

~~~

“You realize that we’re standing in a room that no-one has entered in nearly three thousand years?” Hanzo said awefully, his voice echoing as he stood next to McCree lighting a torch.

“Ugh, smells like it too.” Genji groaned as he descended the rope, jumping down the last few feet and stumbling forward when Mako did the same directly behind him. Hanzo affectionately rubbed his knuckles against his brother’s temple as he walked across the chamber, smiling when Genji batted away his hand with exaggerated annoyance.

He approached the tall stand where sunlight was just barely bouncing off the circular piece of metal it held, carefully dusting the cobwebs off its polished surface.

“And then, there was light.” Hanzo murmured as he slowly tilted up the mirror to catch the sun, watching as it bounced off the other mirrors scattered around and lit up the chamber with soft light.

“Neat trick.” McCree said as he looked around the newly lit room.

“Holy shit, it’s a sah-netjer!” Hanzo exclaimed reverently as he gazed around the chamber.

“What’s a sah-netjer?” McCree asked innocently, as if he already knew the answer but didn’t want anyone catching on to that fact. Hanzo considered calling him out on it before he realized that McCree probably wouldn’t appreciate it, resolving to just ask him about it later.

“A preparation room.” Hanzo answered instead as they walked over to one of the hallway entrances that would lead them further into the ruins.

“For…?” McCree asked expectantly.

“For entering the afterlife.” Genji said with morbid excitement from McCree’s other side, touching the tips of the two torches he held to McCree’s to light them and handing one to Hanzo. “This is where the mummies are made, cowboy.”

The four of them walked in single file down the musty passage, McCree carefully leading the way with his favoured revolver drawn and at the ready. He paused for a moment to inspect the oddly moist-looking walls when a loud, high-pitched chittering suddenly rang out eerily from above them.

“Oh my god, why?!” Genji cried out nervously as he started whipping his torch around to ward off whatever was making the noise, nearly getting smacked in the back of the head by Mako who was doing the same thing but noticeably more agitated.

Just as abruptly as it started, the noise cut off and ceased, leaving a decidedly unsettled atmosphere in its wake.

“What on earth was that?” Hanzo whispered, his eyes glued to the ceiling as he resumed walking behind McCree.

“Sounded like bugs,” McCree drawled, his voice reverberating slightly through the low passageway.

“Did he say bugs? I fuckin’ hate bugs!” Mako growled, just shy of successfully masking the nervousness in his voice with aggression. Not that it mattered as McCree, Hanzo and Genji didn’t even turn their heads to acknowledge him, instead continuing on through the damp corridor.

As they came to a turn, McCree leaned forward to peer around the corner before whispering an “all-clear.” over his shoulder. The passageway opened up into a dark, higher-ceilinged chamber, prompting McCree to raise his torch higher above his head to better illuminate the room. As Hanzo, Genji and Mako filed in behind him and did the same, their combined light revealed massive legs carved out of black stone set on top of a thick stone pedestal, the sides decorated with gold-embossed hieroglyphics and falcons with suns perched atop their heads.

“It’s the legs of Anubis.” Hanzo said lowly, walking forward to place a hand on one of the golden falcons. “The hidden compartment has to be somewhere inside this pedestal.”

Hanzo stuck his torch in the ground a few feet behind him to free up both his hands when a loud, echoing groan suddenly rang out through the chamber. The four of them simultaneously jerked away from the statue, spreading out slightly to try and pinpoint the source of the noise.

The sound vibrated through the room again from somewhere behind Anubis’ legs, this time sounding like words that were distorted just beyond recognition. The group pressed their backs against the stone of the pedestal, readying their respective weapons as the mysterious noise drew closer and closer.

McCree popped out the cylinder on his revolver, giving it a good spin to double-check that a bullet filled each chamber before slamming it back, with Mako going through similar motions with his own revolver. Hanzo plucked an arrow from his quiver and situated it, keeping the bowstring at a relaxed quarter draw to prepare for making the full draw and firing. The metallic _sching!_ of Genji drawing his sword vibrated next to Hanzo’s ear, making him turn to meet Genji’s eyes for a second to give him a tiny nod and receiving one in return.

McCree turned to eye them all, silently counting down from three with his fingers. When he reached zero, the four of them abruptly leapt around the corner of the pedestal with guns and bow and sword at the ready.

They weren’t expecting to be met with a row of guns in their faces, but Hanzo took comfort in the fact that their competitors looked as taken off-guard as he suspected that they did as well.

“Goddamn it, McCree,” Harrington groused, releasing a breath that he seemed to not realize he’d been holding. “You scared the shit out of us.”

“Likewise,” McCree drawled out with an insincere smile as he slowly lowered his revolver.

“Well, it’s been so nice seeing you gentlemen again,” Hanzo said with thinly veiled sarcasm, lowering his bow but suspiciously keeping his arrow at a half draw. “But we have a lot of excavation to be getting to.”

“Piss off! This is our dig site.” Sanjay spat from over Golosky’s shoulder.

“We got here first.” Hanzo shot back with a snarl, happily lifting his bow and drawing back the arrow as weapons on both sides were raised threateningly once more.

“This here’s our statue, _friend._ ” Golosky growled at McCree.

“I don’ see your name on it, _pal._ ” McCree growled right back.

“Well the way I see it, there’s only four o’ you dickheads and fifteen of me.” Jamison said, tsking at him mockingly. “Your odds ain’t so good, McCree.”

 “ ’ve had worse.” McCree said menacingly, not giving an inch.

“Me too.” Genji snarled, turning his blade slightly to display the razor sharpness of its edge.

The faintest sound of rushing air made Hanzo look away from the stand-off and to the ground beneath his feet. There were a few cracks in the floor, and when Hanzo kicked a couple of pebbles through one, he could hear them clatter as they hit the ground below.

A plan rapidly forming in his mind, Hanzo impulsively made the decision to place the arrow back into his quiver and step forward.

“If you’re all going to squabble like children, then I have a proposal to make,” Hanzo said condescendingly, drawing all eyes to him. “It seems unlikely that either group is going to leave the site out of the goodness of their hearts. So to try and keep the bloodshed to a minimum, we’ll just have to share.”

Hanzo turned to look at McCree, placing a calming hand on the arm keeping his revolver stubbornly raised even as their competitors acquiesced and began to lower their weapons. The gun dipped downward only slightly under the weight of his hand, and McCree turned his head to eye him with a look that suggested he was worried for his sanity.

“There are other places to dig.” Hanzo said, willing McCree to trust him.

McCree’s gaze flicked downward to where Hanzo’s hand rested on his elbow, fingers curled lightly in the fabric of his shirt before it shifted back up to meet Hanzo’s eyes. After a couple of seconds, he gave a short nod and conceded, slowly placing his revolver back into his hip holster.

“Sharin’ is carin’, after all.” McCree said tightly, his mouth curling into what was more of a threatening baring of his teeth than a smile.

~~~

 _The man’s an evil mastermind._ Jesse thought gleefully to himself as he pounded the ceiling above him with a sledgehammer, the man in question doing the same with a pickaxe.

“According to the hieroglyphics,” Hanzo grunted in between strikes. “We’re directly beneath the statue. We should come up right in between his legs.”

“And when those stupid fucking Americans go to sleep,” Genji continued happily, turning to McCree with a half-apologetic look on his face. “No offense.”

“None taken.” McCree said distractedly, too busy dodging the rubble breaking off to really give a shit about patriotism (as if there was a time he _ever_ really gave a shit about patriotism).

“We’ll carve our way up and snatch the book right from under their ugly noses!” Genji finished with a smirk.

“Are you sure we can actually find this compartment?” McCree asked skeptically, offering his sledgehammer to Hanzo who took it and gifted him with the pickaxe in return.

“Yes, if those goddamn Americans haven’t beaten us to it. No offense.” Hanzo apologized, more sincerely than Genji did.

“None taken.” McCree said with a roll of his eyes.

Taking a short break from chipping away at the ceiling, Genji strolled forward with his rock hammer slung over his shoulder and peered down the darkened corridor where they had come from.

“Either of you see where Mako went?” Genji asked doubtfully.

“Nope.” Jesse and Hanzo said in unison.

~~~

Mako crawled slowly through a sandy passage with a torch clutched in one hand, the ceiling so low that the top of his head just barely brushed it with each movement forward. Soon enough, he found himself at a turn in the low corridor, breathing a quiet sigh of relief when he saw that it opened up into a taller room. He stood and brushed himself off, and his eyes immediately fixated onto an image of a man carved onto a wall, his arms raised artfully above his head despite him appearing to be screaming in anguish.

Mako paid little attention to the image itself, instead focusing on the metallic blue scarabs sitting in scoops in the stone.

“Jackpot,” Mako rumbled satisfiedly to himself, pulling a knife from his bag to begin prying them out of their places. He held one up to inspect in the torchlight, admiring the odd colour. “Blue gold will fetch a fine price.”

He deposited it carefully into his bag, reaching up with the knife to repeat the process. He was so preoccupied with stripping the wall of scarabs, he didn’t notice when one didn’t quite make it into his bag and fell to the sandy ground below.

Neither did he notice it starting to wiggle, or the quiet chittering sounds it began to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They've finally made it to Hamunaptra, and the plot's starting to pick up! 
> 
> Genji's sword design is directly based off his sword from his Bedouin skin, and I stole the names for the camels from Hanzo's rare skins (The other two are named Sora and Midori :3)
> 
> Once again, the lovely [Somebody_Someone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somebody_Someone/pseuds/Somebody_Someone) has made some awesome artwork for this chapter and you can check it out right [here!](https://chromatocloo.tumblr.com/post/161702805606/you-mean-that-kiss-%E0%B2%A1%E0%B1%AA%E0%B2%A1-moar-doodles-based-on)
> 
> As always, thank you all so much for the kudos and comments last chapter! Hope you enjoyed this one too :3


	7. Unearthed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *disclaimer* Some dialogue taken directly from the movie
> 
> Also warning for gore

“Let’s get that treasure!” Harrington yelled excitedly, jamming a crowbar into the top of a stone panel in the pedestal adorned with two falcons placed back-to-back, one inlaid with shiny black stone and the other embossed in gold, in an attempt to pry it open.

“Wait!” Sanjay said quickly, placing a hand on the crowbar before Harrington could put any weight on it. “Seti would have gone to great measures to protect what lies in this pedestal.” He glanced over at their party of hired hands with thinly veiled indifference. “Let the diggers open it instead.”

Harrington looked at the diggers briefly before looking back at Sanjay. “Yeah, ok.” He acquiesced with a huff, removing his crowbar and stepping back to stand next to Golosky, Favalaro and Fawkes a few metres away. Sanjay beckoned three of the excavators forward, and they set to work with their own crowbars to try and pop the panel open.

“ _Faster,_ ” Sanjay urged in Arabic as he stood by, watching them try and fail to find sufficient weak points in the panel.

“ _Faster!_ ” He urged again, impatiently. The diggers had each managed to work the tips of their crowbars into the space around the panel, and were pumping the bars to try and pry it free.

“ _FASTER!_ ”

The panel finally came loose, heralded by a cloud of mist that sprayed heavily from the cracks.

“HOLY SHIT!” Golosky yelled, everyone jumping back from the pedestal as the three diggers unfortunate enough to open it screamed in inhuman agony. They staggered mindlessly back from the panel, revealing the melting skin of their faces and hands as their wails echoed off the walls. The diggers collapsed to the ground in writhing heaps until, one by one, each went still and fell silent.

Making sure to maintain a safe distance from the pedestal, Sanjay ignored the sounds of fear and confusion ringing out from his party behind him as he peered into the dark opening, devoid of emotion.

“Fascinating.”

~~~

_Clack!_

_Clack!_

_Clack!_

“Can you _please_ stop doing that?” Hanzo asked in annoyance, not even bothering to turn around from where he was inspecting hieroglyphics carved into the wall.

“Hanzo,” Genji said patronizingly as he picked up another rock to toss into the air and swing at with his hammer. “As long as you keep doing your nerd thing even though we’re supposed to be _taking a break,_ then I will remain here, hitting rocks with both strength and grace.”

_Clack!_

Hanzo let out a long-suffering sigh and lightly banged his head against the stone a few times before turning to narrow his eyes at a snickering Jesse.

“What’s so funny?” Hanzo asked, the irritation in his voice belied by the not quite concealed smile on his face.

“Oh nothin’,” Jesse drawled insincerely, sporting a not quite concealed smile of his own. “’S just that Genji could give classes on how to be a nuisance.”

“You’re damn right I could!” Genji yelled from behind them, prompting the two of them to roll their eyes heavenward.

“If you only knew,” Hanzo corroborated with a shudder and a pained look in his eyes that Jesse had a feeling he wore whenever his brother felt like being a shit-disturber.

So… probably often then.

“So tell me more about this mummification thing,” Jesse said, leaning a casual shoulder against the wall Hanzo was studying. “You were at ripping out organs and stuffing them into jars.”

“Oh, yes!” Hanzo said excitedly. “After removing the organs from your chest cavity, the embalmers would extract your brains by taking a red hot hook and sticking it up your nose. Then they would scrape it around in your skull before yanking everything back out through your nostrils.”

“Hanzo, can you please not?” Genji pleaded with disgust in his voice.

“Don’t you have some rocks to hit with strength and grace?” Hanzo asked, looking dismissively over his shoulder at his brother before turning back to Jesse.

“Sounds painful,” Jesse remarked, touching his nose in secondhand sympathy.

“Seeing as you’d be long dead when they do this, it’s a moot point.” Hanzo said with a shrug. “Though something tells me you already knew that.” He stated casually, his voice lowered.

_Shit._

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout.” Jesse refuted easily, dropping his eyes from Hanzo’s far too astute gaze.

“McCree, I’m not a fool.” Hanzo said with light admonishment in his voice as he placed a hand on his arm, silently asking Jesse to meet his eyes again. “You clearly know far more about Ancient Egypt than you let on, why hide it?” He asked with genuine curiosity. They stared at each other for a few tense seconds before Jesse sighed and relented.

“Went to school for it for a couple years,” Jesse admitted, probably doing a terrible job of pretending to be enraptured with the symbols on the walls he’d half forgotten how to read but whatever. “But then there came a time when I couldn’ afford to continue on, so I decided to use what I learned to find the treasures for myself. Haven’t looked back since.”

“That seems like an oversimplification, but fair enough.” Hanzo conceded. “Though I still don’t understand why you keep it hidden. Knowledge isn’t anything to be ashamed of.”

“It’s less about shame and more about keepin’ vultures off my tail.” At Hanzo’s look of confusion, Jesse elaborated further. “See, when there’s treasure on the radar, it’s pretty rare that I’m the only one out there tryin’ to dig it up for myself.” He explained, just as muffled shouts and the sound of stone scraping against stone rang out from above them. “Case in point.” Jesse said wryly with a roll of his eyes. “If other treasure hunters think you know more than they do, you can bet your ass that they’ll be hangin’ ‘round, tryin’ to snatch your find right from under you. It happened enough in my early days that I just decided to keep my mouth shut. You do that, and the only thing people will see is a loudmouthed asshole with gold in his eyes and rocks for brains when they look at you.”

Jesse watched Hanzo’s gaze drop to the sandy floor, an unreadable emotion in his eyes as he wrung his hands together. Jesse frowned in confusion but decided he didn’t need to point it out as he continued on. “It’s worked out pretty well for me. By the time anyone figures out where they need to dig, all they find is a hole in the ground and I’m already twenty miles away.” Jesse chuckled ruefully. “It was a pretty sweet deal until I oh-so-intelligently decided to join the French Foreign Legion while three sheets to the wind.”

Hanzo’s eyes snapped up in a flash. “You did _what?_ ” He asked incredulously, making Jesse burst out laughing.

“You heard me.” He said, still chuckling.

“I-I don’t,” Hanzo stammered in disbelief. “You mentioned a garrison before but… _really?_ ”

“Would it surprise ya to learn that that doesn’t even make my top five list of stupid things I’ve done in my life?” Jesse asked innocently, smiling when a laugh burst out of Hanzo’s chest.

“It really wouldn’t.” He said with a wry shake of his head and a smile.

“You wound me!” Jesse gasped theatrically with a hand pressed to his chest, making Hanzo chuckle until Genji yelled something across the room in Japanese. Jesse watched in fascination as Hanzo’s eyes went wide and his entire face turned a very endearing shade of pink.

“Genji, shut the fuck up!” Hanzo yelled in mortification, to which Genji responded with a wicked peal of laughter before returning to his rock hitting. Jesse was just absolutely _burning_ to know what Genji had said to elicit such a reaction from his brother, but he knew better than to ask judging from the look on Hanzo’s face so he let it go.

“So,” Hanzo started after regaining his composure.

“So?” Jesse repeated with an impish grin on his face, snickering when Hanzo narrowed his eyes at him in annoyance.

“ _So_ , now that I know you have a background in Ancient Egyptian history, do you think you could stop playing dumb?” Hanzo requested with his arms crossed over his chest. “You obviously don’t need me to explain everything to you, though I don’t mind filling you in on the things you _actually_ don’t know.”

“What if I just like listenin’ to you talk?” Jesse rumbled. He figured he was probably laying it on a little thick at this point, but was pleased to be rewarded with the return of Hanzo’s cute blush on his cheekbones.

“ _Besides_ ,” Hanzo continued, pointedly not acknowledging the very obvious flirt. “I’d appreciate having someone to bounce ideas off of. This one is practically useless.” He said, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder.

“He’s right, I really am.” Genji agreed, tossing another rock up in the air.

_Clack!_

_CRASH!_

“HOLY FUCK!” Jesse yelled, instinctively throwing an arm in front of Hanzo to protect him from any flying debris as a massive stone case suddenly dropped from the ceiling to land on the ground in a huge plume of dust.

“Oops?” Genji said weakly, slowly placing his rock hammer onto the ground and shuffling away from it, as if trying to distance himself from the evidence.

“Oh my god,” Hanzo breathed in awe as he approached the case, brushing off the pile of sand that had collected on top. “It’s a sarcophagus.”  Hanzo peered upward into the dark hole in the ceiling from where it had come crashing to the ground. “Buried at the base of Anubis…” He murmured thoughtfully.

Jesse let out a low whistle. “He must’ve been important.”

“That, or…” Hanzo paused thoughtfully as he pushed off some of the rubble, then looked over to meet Jesse’s gaze. “He committed an unforgivable crime.”

~~~

“One more,” Mako murmured as he pried another scarab off the wall and placed it into his satchel, and then paused. “…One more,” He conceded with a smirk before raising his knife again. Otherwise occupied, Mako didn’t notice the sound of scuttling legs on sand, nor the leather of his boot being pried apart from where it was sewn into the sole.

He did manage to notice the sudden pain emanating from under the flesh of his foot though.

“What the _fuck?!?_ ” Mako managed to choke out as the pain left a burning trail as it travelled up his leg, over his hipbone and up towards his chest. He pulled his knife from its sheath on his leg before ripping open his shirt.

Mako’s eyes watched in sick fascination as a fast-moving lump darted haphazardly under his skin before picking a path up the centre of his ribcage. Mako tracked the erratic movement of the lump with the tip of his knife, the already rapid thudding of his heart kicking up in speed as its trajectory evened out and aimed for his jugular.

He’d have to time this just right…

When Mako plunged the knife into the flesh just over his collarbone, he finally registered the rasping pain in his throat and realized that he’d been screaming the entire time.

~~~

“Come on, Hanzo! Who is it?” Genji asked interestedly, holding a torch over the sarcophagus so that his brother and Jesse could see better. Hanzo pulled a brush from his bag and brushed away the sand obscuring the inscription in the centre of the stone while Jesse blew a gust of air from his lips to speed the process.

“He that shall not be named…” Hanzo revealed after taking a second to translate, gazing upward into the hole in the stone with a grave look in his eyes. Jesse looked back down at the inscription and noticed the hints of an odd shape still half-hidden by sand that was cut into the stone. He blew out another gust of air to reveal an eight-pointed star with a stylized image of a scarab carved into the centre. Upon further inspection, Jesse discovered that the hollow was actually an intricately forged piece of black metal inlaid into the sarcophagus.

“I don’t know ‘bout you fellas, but _that_ looks like a lock.” Jesse said with a decisive point of his index finger.

“Whoever they stuffed in here sure wasn’t gonna to get out.” Genji agreed, shuffling closer to Jesse’s other side to inspect it for himself.

“No kiddin’,” Jesse said ruefully. “It’ll take us a month to crack this thing open without a key.”

“A key?” Hanzo repeated questioningly, as if trying to remember something when suddenly his eyes flew wide in realization. “A key! That’s what he was talking about!” Hanzo exclaimed as he turned around to rummage through his satchel.

“That’s what _who_ was talking about?” Jesse asked, not really following the tangent Hanzo seemed to be going on.

“The man who attacked us on the riverboat! The one with the knife,” Hanzo said distractedly as he pulled out the puzzle box. “He was looking for a key…” He murmured as he twisted the box open into an eight-pointed star that perfectly matched the shape of the lock.

“That I risked life and limb to retrieve, you’re welcome.” Genji bragged half-heartedly as he watched Hanzo place the box face down into the lock. Unsurprisingly, it fit perfectly insid, and  Hanzo crossed his arms over his chest and looked at them both with a self-satisfied smile on his face.

It faded pretty quickly when the chamber suddenly filled with the sound of Mako’s terrified screaming however.

All three of them snapped to attention, plucking up their respective weapons and running to the doorway from where the screams were emanating from. They had to jump back before getting there however as Mako barreled past them, blood dripping from a gouge carved into his chest and from the crimson furrows his nails sliced into his skin.

“Mako, what’s wrong?!” Jesse yelled, but Mako didn’t seem to hear him as his bag went flying from his shoulder with a violent shake of his body. He sprinted past them and to the rope leading to the surface, ascending it astonishingly fast and screaming all the while.

The only evidence Mako left of having ever entered the great City of the Dead were his satchel, several blood droplets scattered over the sand, and the fading echoes of his fearful cries.

~~~

Shadows hung heavy and ominous over Hamunaptra that evening as both camps prepared to bunk down for the night. An eerie breeze curled over the back of Hanzo’s neck, making him shiver and tug his blanket more firmly around his shoulders.

“What do you suppose scared Mako so badly?” Hanzo asked Genji, turning his eyes away from where he had been staring troubledly into their campfire for the last few minutes.

“Dunno,” Genji replied after a beat, having been staring into the flames himself. “Maybe he saw a big spider?” He offered weakly, to which Hanzo responded to with a skeptical narrowing of his eyes.

“Seems like our American friends had some misfortune of their own today.” McCree informed them before Hanzo had a chance to reply as he emerged from the darkness obscuring the head of the path to their camp. His favoured revolver was held deceptively loose in his hand as he took a seat next to Hanzo by the fire. “Three of their diggers were… _melted_.” He revealed, making Hanzo and Genji’s eyes simultaneously fly wide in shock.

“Uh, what the fuck?!” Genji asked eloquently.

“How?” Hanzo asked in turn, his brows furrowed with utter disbelief.

“Salt acid. Pressurized salt acid.” McCree informed them grimly. “Some kind of ancient booby trap just kind of,” McCree made a vague motion in front of his face. “Sprayed it all in their faces.”

“Maybe this place really is cursed.” Genji breathed as he gazed up at the unnervingly black sky. The moon and stars still shone up above, but their light was strangely faint. A sharp, whistling breeze suddenly cut through their campsite, making the fire flicker worryingly for a moment before it abruptly ceased.

McCree and Genji stared at each other with equally nervous looks, and Hanzo’s gaze flicked back and forth between them before he decided he’d had enough. “Will the two of you stop it with this nonsense about curses?” He asked annoyedly.

“Don’ believe in curses?” McCree questioned as he busied himself by adjusting the fire with a long stick.

“No I do not.” Hanzo agreed testily. “I believe in what I can see and what I can touch, and curses do _not_ fall under either of those categories.”

“Well, I believe in being prepared.” McCree stated, checking the ammo in his revolver before smacking the cylinder back into place.

“Shall we see what Mako believed in?” Genji asked wickedly, not waiting for them to answer as he snatched up the warden’s forgotten bag to rifle through its contents. He dug around for a few seconds before snatching his hand out of the bag with a pained cry.

“What?! What is it?” Hanzo yelled, his frayed nerves making him flinch like a frightened animal. He at least wasn’t the only one caught off guard, judging from McCree pointing his revolver threateningly at the bag.

“Will the two of you chill?” Genji asked with a roll of his eyes as the sound of clinking came from inside the satchel. “It’s just a broken bottle, goddamn.” Genji muttered, his eyes widening as he took a closer look at the label. “Glenlivet! Twelve years old!” He said excitedly as he pried the cork out of the broken neck of the bottle with his teeth. “Mako may be the unfortunate combination of a coward and an asshole, but he’s got great taste in whiskey!” He said happily, raising the bottle to them in cheers before taking a sip. Hanzo smiled fondly at his younger brother’s antics until he noticed McCree’s head whip around to where the high-pitched whinnying of several riled horses drifted over from the other camp.

“Grab your weapons, we got trouble.” He requested gravely as he shot to his feet and darted back down the path. The brothers stood swiftly, Hanzo slinging his bow over his chest and retying his quiver to his belt while Genji grabbed his sword and sheath and slung it over his shoulder before they sprinted to catch up with McCree. They stood together and watched as figures garbed in identical black robes as their assailants on the riverboat swarmed into the ruins, waving torches, swinging swords and firing rifles into the mass of people fleeing this way and that.

“Genji, you find some high ground so you can get the drop on those bastards.” McCree commanded, handing him one of his spare revolvers even as he shot bullet after bullet into their attackers.

“On it!” He said with a cheeky salute as he weaved his way through the battlefield, occasionally slicing and shooting as he went.

“Hanzo, you climb up those pillars and pick off as many as you can.” McCree directed, pointing to a set of pillars varying in height so that Hanzo could scale the lowest and then leap to the higher ones for an adequate vantage point.

“Understood.” Hanzo grunted before he started unbuttoning his shirt.

“Uh, what are ya doin’?” McCree asked, and Hanzo was incredibly pleased to hear his voice come out pitched somewhat higher than normal as he pulled the left sleeve of his buttondown off and tucked it inside the back of his shirt, revealing the full glory of the inked blue dragon that coiled around his arm and rested on a bed of stormclouds shot through with lightning.

“It makes it easier to fire my arrows this way.” He said with a shrug before his eyes narrowed in sudden concentration. He swiftly nocked an arrow and fired right over McCree’s shoulder into a black-clad warrior who had been seconds away from carving McCree’s head from his shoulders. Hanzo watched with a smug smile as McCree looked back and forth between Hanzo and his would-be killer.

“Better pay attention, cowboy.” Hanzo teased, feeling particularly proud of himself as he eyed the lingering blush on McCree’s cheeks. At least, until McCree’s face hardened and he fired a shot over his shoulder in return.

No fucking way.

Hanzo looked behind him and, sure enough, a robed man about ten feet behind him lay slumped over his rifle.

“Only if you do the same, archer.” McCree replied with a smirk, adding insult to injury by tipping his hat before diving back into the fray.

“Bastard,” Hanzo muttered fondly as he picked his way toward the pillars, stopping occasionally to fire arrows into anyone trying to get too close or starting to veer towards McCree and Genji until he finally arrived at the pillars. He had just shouldered his bow to start climbing when he heard the sound of hoofbeats pounding uncomfortably close behind him. He leapt to the side just in time to dodge the sword coming straight for his head, but not quite quickly enough to keep it from slicing across his exposed shoulder.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Hanzo yelled as white-hot agony lit up his back. He whipped around, plucking an arrow from his quiver as he did so and fired it right into his attacker’s throat. He reached over his shoulder to press his hand to the cut and his eyes widened when he pulled it back and saw how much blood coated his fingers. He didn’t have time to worry about it though, shaking the droplets off his hand and wiping the excess on his pants before ascending the pillar and swiftly jumping to the highest one.

Hanzo quickly scanned the battlefield, firing arrow after arrow as he did so. He couldn’t quite see McCree nor his brother from his vantage point through the chaos, so he made sure to take down as many of the marauders as he safely could to thin the crowd for them without inadvertently hitting one of them.   

Being his brother, Hanzo was very familiar and confident in Genji’s fighting ability. He hadn’t known McCree for nearly as long, but he had proven himself a capable and resourceful fighter.

Still, he couldn’t help but worry.

~~~

“Take that, you assholes!” Genji cried wildly before simultaneously swinging his sword in one direction and then firing a bullet in the other, both attacks impressively deadly in their accuracy. Even more impressive were the riders that would fall off their horses for seemingly no reason, until they slumped forward and revealed the arrows sticking out of their backs.

Having gotten to know the two brothers, Jesse would never say this to their faces, but when he’d first laid eyes on them both he’d thought that they were just your average, run-of-the-mill yuppies looking for adventure in the wrong places.

Watching the two of them fight however cast a rather harsh light on how flawed that impression really was.

Jesse didn’t have time to chew on it for long as he fired round after round into the mounted fighters, each bullet hitting its mark and sending several people sliding off their saddles and to the ground, the wild motions of their now riderless horses only adding further to the chaos.

Meanwhile, Genji stood in a defensive crouch on a low wall, slicing his sword at people riding past and kicking anyone who charged the wall on foot right in the head to send them crumpling to the ground. The sound of a battle cry rang out from behind him and Genji turned to see the silver glint of a sword pointed right at his head. He managed to adjust its trajectory just in the nick of time with his own sword and raised his borrowed revolver to finish the job.

It clicked empty, and Genji froze as his assailant’s eyes lit with triumph. They guided their horse back around and tried for his life again at double the speed.

“Oh, fu- MCCREE!” Genji yelled as he leapt from the wall and into a crazed sprint across the ruins to where he last saw the cowboy.

Jesse’s head jerked up at the sound of his name, swearing under his breath as he climbed a broken pillar to get a better shot at Genji’s pursuer. He snatched a speedloader out of his hip pouch only for it to slip right out of his fingers and onto the sand right as Genji sprinted past him. Making a split-second decision, Jesse leapt forward just in time to tackle the black-robed rider right off their horse and onto the ground. Swiftly getting to his feet, Jesse threw himself into a combat roll across the sand to put some distance between them, grabbing the speedloader he’d dropped and loading it into Peacekeeper mid-roll. He turned to see the robed warrior charging straight at him with their sword already in mid-swing until Jesse fired a shot at the blade that sent it flying right out of their hands.

They looked at him with fury in their eyes, roughly pulling down their keffiyeh to reveal the face of a woman with sharp features made even sharper by the black lines of the tattoo inked under her right eye and the snarl on her lips. She pulled out an identical sword from a sheath on her hip and swung again, this time knocking Peacekeeper right out of Jesse’s hand. Having gained the advantage, she aimed a horizontal slice at Jesse’s stomach only to hit air as he dodged backward at the last second.

Jesse turned and launched himself into another combat roll, snatching up a stick of dynamite from several he’d noticed scattered on the ground and lighting it with the flames of a nearby campfire to hold it threateningly towards his attacker. The look in her eyes as she stared at the sparkling fuse swiftly cycled through disbelief, anger and then finally resignation as she sheathed her sword.  

“Enough!” She bellowed as she looked over the battlefield at her comrades, repeating the command in a language unfamiliar to Jesse. A tense silence swiftly washed over the ruins as she forced a reluctant ceasefire. She turned back to Jesse with thinly veiled hostility. “We will shed no more blood here this night, but you all must leave.” She stated forcefully, loud enough for everyone to clearly hear her. “Leave this place, or die.” She spat, her eyes fixed on Jesse until she turned with an uncaring flip of her hair and strode toward the archway where her party had first flooded into the ruins, the thundering of hoofbeats sounding through the City once more as they followed their chieftain.

“You have one day!” She yelled as one of her warriors handed her the reins to her horse. She expertly swung herself up into the saddle as it trotted past, then guided her horse in a smooth circle to survey her group.  

It had been a while, but Jesse was very familiar with the process of counting heads to see who remained.

“Do not linger here. My mercy only goes so far.” She growled before calling to her warriors, who raised their swords above their heads to the moon and stars above before sheathing their weapons and retreating through the archway. Jesse watched them leave with impetuous eyes, yanking the half-burned fuse out of the dynamite and throwing it onto the ground much harder than necessary as he scanned the carnage left behind by the attack.

“Did we win?” A soft voice suddenly said from behind him.

Jesse whipped around to see Hanzo standing there, a light pallor on his skin and his features pinched with discomfort as he held his bunched up keffiyeh against his upper back.

“Hanzo!” Jesse exclaimed  with relief as he gently grabbed at his shoulders, though it was tempered with concern. “Are you okay?” Jesse asked as he angled his back towards him to inspect the wound. He gently coaxed the keffiyeh from Hanzo’s hand and carefully peeled it back to reveal a nasty-looking gash a few inches long carved into his shoulder blade.

“I’m fine,” Hanzo said genuinely as he placed his hand over Jesse’s to press the makeshift bandage back into place. “It’s just a flesh wound.”

“Good, good,” Jesse said, trusting Hanzo not to lie to him about the severity of his injury. “I’m gonna personally fix it up for you later though.” He warned with faux-sternness, delighted at the snicker it elicited from Hanzo.

“I don’t doubt it.” Hanzo shot back irreverently with a smirk.

“That proves it!” Golosky shouted suddenly with glee a few feet away, ruining the moment as Jesse and Hanzo rolled their eyes and stepped away from each other to listen to what the asshole had to say. “Seti’s gold has _gotta_ be buried here!”

“They wouldn’t protect it like this if there weren’t treasure here.” Favalaro agreed.

“Are you kiddin’?” Jesse asked in disbelief. “We’re in the middle of the fuckin’ Sahara in case y’all have forgotten. Not a drop of water to be found for miles in every direction, ring a bell? Gold’s worthless to most anyone scrapin’ a livin’ out here. They wouldn’t be dickin’ around this place just for that.”

Golosky and Favalaro both went silent as they contemplated that while Harrington sidled up next to Jesse. “Maybe we could combine forces at night so uh, we don’t get murdered in our sleep?” He asked with a pleading look in his eyes and a hand extended, standing there half dressed in his regular clothes and sleepwear which gave Jesse a pretty decent hint as to what he was in the middle of when the attack descended.

“Fair enough.” Jesse conceded with no small amount of resignation, ignoring Harrington’s outstretched hand as he turned back to Hanzo and Genji. “Let’s go.” He said, the three of them walking back to their campsite with Jesse and Genji silently agreeing to relegate Hanzo to the middle so that they could keep a watchful eye on him from either side.

“Genji, did you _really_ need to bring the whiskey to the fight with you?” Hanzo asked tiredly when Genji pulled the bottle out of nowhere and started drinking from it halfway up the path.

“Uh, absolutely?” Genji asked, affronted. “It’s like you don’t even know me, brother.” He tsked disappointedly as he took another drink.

“Will you cut it out with that? Your brother’s gonna be needing that whiskey a lot more than you in a bit.” Jesse stated in annoyance.

“What do you mean?” Hanzo asked in confusion.

“Alcohol has the very useful dual properties of being a disinfectant as well as a painkiller.” Jesse answered simply, looking pointedly at the blue scarf slowly purpling with blood.

“Don’t worry McCree, the bottle’s still nearly full.” Genji dismissed with wave of his hand, taking another sip before handing it off. “I bet you that there’ll be plenty left to share between us once Hanzo’s been patched up. We need to celebrate not dying!”

“I would be amenable to that.” Hanzo agreed with a wicked glint in his eye.

“Alright, alright,” Jesse conceded with amusement. “I’ll wait until ‘M done stitchin’ you up to claim my share though.”

“Alright! Let’s get druuuuunk!” Genji crowed in triumph. “Up all night! Up all night!” He chanted as the made their way back to the campsite.

~~~

Genji’s snores sounded off from where he lay passed out next to the fire barely an hour after returning to the camp, though Jesse and Hanzo could barely hear them as they were right in the middle of an impromptu archery lesson.

“Are you trying to strangle the bow?” Hanzo giggled helplessly from where he stood watching Jesse try to shoot an arrow for the hopefully charmed third time into the centre of a chunk of wood they’d propped against a boulder several metres away.

The blood from Hanzo’s wound didn’t quite manage to drip far enough down his back to ruin his shirt by the time they arrived back at their campsite, but he’d yet to resume wearing it after Jesse stitched him up and taped a gauze pad to his shoulder, citing the discomfort that would come from his shirt constantly rubbing against the bandage and jostling it as he slept. He accepted a blanket being loosely draped over his shoulders however, so Jesse’s deeply buried inner mother hen was satisfied.

“Hmm, I don’t recall askin’ for hecklin’ from the peanut gallery.” Jesse shot back with amusement as he finally loosed the arrow, satisfied when it buried itself into the far right corner of the plank.

“Congratulations, you finally managed to hit it. If only just.” Hanzo mocked, his voice slurring slightly as he strode forward to take the bow from Jesse’s hand and retrieve his arrows.

“My apologies, O grandmaster of archery, for not being able to hit a bullseye even though I’ve never touched a bow in my life and am currently half-drunk.” Jesse apologized sarcastically, sweeping his hat from his head to press it to his chest in exaggerated remorse as he staggered backward a couple steps.

“You’re forgiven. Though if you aren’t an expert by the next time you pick up a bow, I will be forced to kill you out of shame.” Hanzo informed him gravely. The two of the stared at each other silently for a few seconds, before a half-stifled snicker from Hanzo sent them both into peals of laughter.

“So Hanzo,” Jesse started as they returned to the fire, sitting together closely enough that their shoulders knocked together every so often. “I gotta ask, how’d you and Genji get so good with weapons and fightin’ and all that mess? ‘Scuse my rudeness, but I didn’t peg y’all as the type when we first met.”

“I believe part of that is Genji’s fault,” Hanzo said as he glared at his sleeping brother, though the effect was ruined by the sheer fondness of the smile he wore on his face. “I would’ve been able to cut a much more intimidating figure if my idiot brother had informed me we were going to a prison more than ten seconds before arriving.”

“He didn’t!” Jesse exclaimed with a disbelieving chuckle.

“He most certainly did, but that is neither here nor there.” Hanzo said as he fell silent to stare up contemplatively at the faint twinkling light of the stars for a few seconds before looking back to Jesse. “To be able to fully answer your question, you should know that our parents were two quite famous archaeologists. Sojiro and Kana Shimada.”

“No fuckin’ way, you guys are _those_ Shimadas?” Jesse asked with wide eyes. “I read like all of their papers when I was still in school.”

“Indeed,” Hanzo confirmed with a nod before continuing. “Being archaeologists, they were very familiar with the dangers that came with being in the field. Their findings were simply artifacts to them, but many others saw them as extremely valuable treasure and would do anything to get their hands on them.

“At one time, Genji and I were equally prepared to follow in their footsteps, so they ensured we had all the skills we needed to defend ourselves when the time came. Gun training was required by our father, but our mother encouraged us to learn hand-to-hand combat as well as gain proficiency in other weapons in case guns or ammunition were not available. Genji is proficient in archery, as am I with a sword, but we both have our preferences and honed our skills accordingly. We used to join them on their expeditions when we were teenagers, so tonight was not the first time we’ve needed to shed blood in order to defend ourselves.”

“Wait, what do you mean you were equally prepared?” Jesse asked with a confused furrow of his brow. “Genji doesn’t seem _nearly_ as gung ho about all this Egypt stuff as you are.”

“He wasn’t always like this,” Hanzo admitted sadly, hugging his knees to his chest as he stared into the fire. “Our parents passed away seven years ago when the ship carrying them home from Egypt to Japan capsized in the East China Sea. I was already partway through my Master’s degree when it happened, but Genji was barely two years into his Bachelor’s. After they died he just… lost interest. He dropped out two months later, and I’ve never been able to convince him to go back. ”

“I’m so sorry, Hanzo. That’s just fuckin’ awful.” Jesse said softly, the alcohol allowing him just enough courage to give him a one-armed hug in sympathy.

“It’s okay,” Hanzo replied, leaning his head against Jesse’s shoulder for a moment before pulling away, even though Jesse wouldn’t have minded if he stayed awhile. “It’s been long time, so it’s easier to talk about them now.”

“The hurt never really goes away though.” Jesse stated with a sad, knowing look.

“No,” Hanzo agreed. “It doesn’t.”

The two of them sat in solemn silence before Jesse turned to Hanzo with a smirk on his face. “I believe it’s long past time for another drink, don’t you?”

“God, yes.” Hanzo breathed in relief as he plucked the bottle from where Genji was cradling it in the crook of his arm, taking a drink before passing it to Jesse. “I answered your question, now it’s your turn.” Hanzo said, pointing at him with a stern finger.

“I suppose that’s fair.” Jesse said with a chuckle. “What do you wanna know?” Hanzo’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times, as if internally debating whether or not he should voice what was on his mind.

“What did you mean when you said you couldn’t afford to continue on with your education?” Hanzo finally asked, making Jesse’s smile falter a bit. “You don’t need to answer that if I’ve crossed a line, but I’d genuinely like to know if you wouldn’t mind?”

“You haven’t crossed a line, darlin’,” Jesse reassured him, oddly touched by the out Hanzo had given him. “It’s been a long time for me too so it don’t bother me as much as it used to.”

Jesse took a deep breath to centre himself. “I was in a gang called Deadlock when I was a kid,” He revealed with a quiet voice. “Didn’t really get much choice in the matter. Got snatched up by ‘em when my dickhead of a father decided to up and die on me and I didn’t have nowhere else to turn. I managed to get myself out when I was seventeen, though it wasn’t easy. Went to high school, got good grades, even got accepted into a nice university for Archaeological Studies focusin’ on Ancient Egypt. Things were good for a few years before it all came crashin’ down.

“I got summoned to the Dean’s office one day. And when I say ‘summoned’ I mean I was delivered a very official lookin’ envelope that told me to report to the Dean on a set date and time, like I was goin’ to court or somethin’. I get there, and he informs me that the university had recently become aware of my, and I quote, ‘troubled past’ and that they couldn’t allow me to continue my studies there because of it.

“Now, I don’t know if your school was like this, but when you get expelled from an American university for, again I quote, ‘previous criminal misconduct’, it gets slapped permanently into your file so when you try to apply to another school, they take one look at it and essentially tell you to go fuck yourself. So, not wanting to let what education I managed to get go to waste, I decided to get into treasure huntin’ instead. Partly because it was fun, but mostly as a giant middle finger to everythin’ that tried to screw me over back home.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, Jesse trying to keep the old bitterness welling up in his gut at a simmer instead of the raging boil it wanted to become when Hanzo spoke up. “I’m sorry you had so much stolen from you.” He said sincerely, surprising Jesse by slinging an arm across his shoulders and giving him a one-armed hug in return.

“Ah, it ain’t so bad,” Jesse said warmly, leaning into the embrace before Hanzo slowly retracted his arm. “’M actually kinda glad things didn’t work out.”

“And why is that?” Hanzo asked, perplexed.

“Got to meet you, didn’t I?” Jesse confessed as he turned his head, taken aback when he saw the unreservedly stunned look on Hanzo’s face as he clumsily shifted to face him. Hanzo’s eyes darted down to his lips, and it felt like the world was moving in slow motion as they deliberately leaned toward each other. Jesse lightly grasped Hanzo’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, pausing to check for any sign of hesitation or discomfort, something he felt a sudden pang of regret for ignoring back at the prison. Seeing nothing but want in his eyes, Jesse closed the distance and slotted his mouth to Hanzo’s.

Jesse sighed into the kiss as Hanzo’s fingers wove their way into his hair with a soft moan. They didn’t get to savour it for very long however as a particularly loud snort from Genji’s direction had them jerking away from each other. They both looked over at a still-sleeping Genji for a second before sharing quiet laughter as their eyes met again.

“Perhaps we should continue this when we are alone and sober?” Hanzo asked amusedly.

“Took the words right out of my mouth, darlin’.” Jesse agreed with a smile before pointing at his lips. “One more for the road?” He asked innocently, delighted in the surprised laugh that burst from Hanzo’s throat.

“Ridiculous man,” Hanzo said with an exasperated shake of his head.

“I’m not hearing a noooooooo,” Jesse sing-songed teasingly as he pulled Hanzo into his lap, who chuckled warmly before cradling Jesse’s jaw in his hands and pressing a kiss to his smiling mouth. Despite their best intentions however, the kiss swiftly grew heated again. Hanzo’s tongue suddenly darted into his mouth to slide against his own, wrenching a moan from Jesse’s throat that Hanzo immediately swallowed before he pulled back.

“There, are you happy?” Hanzo asked dazedly with colour high on his cheekbones, the gruffness of his words belied by the soft smile that he wore.

“Don’t ya know it’s impolite to fish for compliments, darlin’?” Jesse informed him with a dopey smile, making Hanzo snicker as he released his grip on his waist and allowed the other man off his lap.

“Goodnight, McCree.” Hanzo called softly as he settled down to sleep next to Genji.

“Call me Jesse, please.” Jesse entreated feelingly, thoroughly enjoying the smile that spread across Hanzo’s face at his request.

“Goodnight… Jesse.” Hanzo corrected before arranging his blanket to his liking and turning onto his side to fall asleep. Jesse did the same, but then rolled to lie on his back so he could contemplate the stars for a few long moments.

He hadn’t felt this giddy over someone in a very long time, and Jesse had to raise a hand to his lips just to make sure that the taste of Hanzo’s mouth hadn’t seared them right off. The kiss that he had surprised Hanzo with back at the prison had seemed pretty good at the time, but it paled in comparison to the warm, willing and just goddamn _satisfying_ ones he had just shared with him.

Jesse’s nerves were still strung pretty tightly over the evil he sensed lurking in the ruins, and the skirmish they’d just barely scraped through with the black-robed warriors only tightened them further. But Jesse had two formidable warriors of his own on his side, who he knew had his back just as fiercely as he had theirs. He didn’t know where this thing between himself and Hanzo would go after they left Hamunaptra, but he’d be damned if he died before getting the chance to find out. Comforted by that thought, Jesse curled up on his side to face the campfire.

_We’ve got this._ Jesse thought blearily to himself, just seconds before his breaths evened out and sleep swept over him like a soft, dark blanket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *spoiler alert* They don't got this.
> 
> Sorry for the delay between chapters! Things got SUPER busy for me at work for a while there, not to mention that I was trying to fit in some #funsummeractivities while I could. I made this chapter extra-long though to make up for it :3
> 
> [Somebody_Someone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somebody_Someone/pseuds/Somebody_Someone) made some kickass drawings of the boys at the Bedouin market last chapter! You can check them out right [here](https://chromatocloo.tumblr.com/post/163183468826/moar-doodles-based-on-vestorthedestroyers-long)
> 
> Thank you all for the comments and kudos last chapter, I love each and every one of them :3
> 
> P.S. What Genji said in Japanese to embarrass Hanzo was essentially "Are you two gonna make out or what?"


	8. Wake the Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *disclaimer* Some dialogue taken directly from the movie.  
> 

The sun had barely risen over Hamunaptra the next morning as both parties returned to their respective finds, wanting to make the most of the day they had left to explore.

“ _Carefully, carefully,”_ Sanjay bade the diggers as two of them lifted an ornate stone box out of the gap in the pedestal of Anubis and set it on the ground. The box was made mostly of smooth red stone, with black tablets intricately carved with hieroglyphics set into the sides. Each tablet was bordered on either side by owls, each guarding a golden orb in its claws.

“Fascinating,” Sanjay breathed as he inspected the box, “Each of the orbs becomes a little darker than the one before it. Almost like the phases of the moon…”

“Nobody cares, Sanj. Will ya just open the fuckin’ box?” Golosky asked impatiently, prompting Sanjay to glare at him.

“I believe that yesterday should be proof enough for you that it is not in our best interests to rush,” Sanjay said bluntly, smirking internally as Golosky suddenly went white as a sheet and nodded in assent. Sanjay knelt in front of the box, blowing a gust of air from his lips to clear off the dust as Harrington, Favalaro, Fawkes and eventually Golosky gathered on either side of him. As Sanjay quickly read the inscriptions, Favalaro curled his fingers under the edges of the lid and made to pull it up before Sanjay stopped him with a hard grip on one of his wrists.

“Careful, you fool! This box is cursed.” Sanjay bit out angrily, ignoring the irritated groans that sounded out from around him.

“Oh my god, who the hell cares?” Favalaro asked frustratedly as he removed his hands from the box.

“ _You_ definitely should, Mr. Favalaro. The rites committed in these hallowed grounds are just as strong today as they were three thousand years ago.” Sanjay revealed gravely.

“Ok, ok, _whatever,_ what does it say already?” Favalaro interjected impatiently. Sanjay’s eyes returned to the hieroglyphics that had been painstakingly carved into the stone, ensuring that their message was clear even after nearly three millennia.

“Death comes for all who dare to open this chest.” Sanjay translated grimly. Suddenly the chamber filled with the sound of distant echoes, of stone scraping against stone, half-formed words and warbling wails. As if that wasn’t unnerving enough, a musty breeze started whipping through the chamber, flickering all of the torchlights until most of them went out. The diggers, having finally had enough, threw down their guttered torches and sprinted to the exit with fearful cries.

“Cowards.” Sanjay snarled, spitting in the direction the workers had left in before refocusing his attention on the box.

“I’m not an easy scare, mates,” Fawkes said with a voice pitched noticeably higher with fear as he stepped back from the box to look suspiciously around the room. “So believe me when I say we should hightail it ‘fore it’s too late.”

“We’re not paying you for your opinion, so please have the courtesy to keep it to yourself.” Sanjay said with an indifferent wave of his hand and continued translating. “Beware the fouled undead who, if returned to the mortal plane, are bound by sacred law to consummate this curse.”

“Don’t any of y’all go raising the dead now.” Harrington joked, trying and failing to bring some levity to the situation.

“He will kill all who open this chest,” Sanjay continued, giving no outward sign that he realized Harrington had even spoken. “Assimilating their organs and fluids before finally, consuming their souls. In so doing he will regenerate and no longer be undead, but a long shadow cast upon this Earth.” Cold sweat began forming at Sanjay’s temples as he raised his eyes from the lid to stare unseeingly into the darkness of the passageway beyond the chamber.

“Well I’ll be damned if we came all this way for nothin’,” Golosky stated forcefully, nudging Sanjay to break him out of his thousand yard stare.

“No. No, no, no. _Hell_ no.” Fawkes said, his voice trembling as he slowly backed toward the exit. “You wankers can keep your fucking curse!” He spat fearfully before turning tail and full-on sprinting out of the chamber as if the reaper himself was hot on his heels. “FUCK THIIIIIIIIIS!!!” He cried as he darted out of sight, his scream reverberating eerily off the walls as the sound of his footsteps faded.

“Superstitious moron,” Golosky dismissed harshly, watching Fawkes vanish into the shadows as he motioned to Harrington and Favalaro to open the box. They each grasped a corner of the much-heavier-than-it-appeared lid in their hands, lifting upward in unison to pry it off.

Just as the lid came free, a cloud of mist billowed heavily from the chest, making the four that remained cough and choke as it entered their lungs.

~~~

“I’ve been dreaming of this ever since I was a child,” Hanzo said, barely able to contain his excitement as the three of them lifted the sarcophagus out of the stone case and propped it against a wall.

“You dream about dead guys?” McCree teased with an arched brow before turning his eyes back to the sarcophagus. The exterior had been painstakingly carved into the likeness of a man with an ancient-styled headdress on his head and his arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh, shut up,” Hanzo shot back with exasperated fondness as he bent down to inspect the symbols carved into the sarcophagus’ abdomen. “Look. The sacred spells have been chiseled off.” He said as he dragged his fingers over the stone to draw McCree and Genji’s attention to it. “This man must have been condemned not only in this life, but in the next as well.”

“Yeesh, tough break.” McCree said sympathetically.

“Yeah, yeah, my heart’s breaking for him. Can we crack this fucker open or what?” Genji asked impatiently, his hand outstretched for the key that Hanzo held.

“Must you be so crass?” Hanzo asked in half-hearted annoyance as he handed his brother the key.

“It’s part of my charm, _nii-chan!_ ” Genji said with a wicked-looking grin as he twisted the key to unlock the sarcophagus. “Now let’s see who’s inside…” Genji and Hanzo pushed upward against the lip of the stone from one side while McCree got a handhold on the surface of the sarcophagus and pulled from the other, but it wouldn’t budge. They rocked the lid back and forth between them a few times, and just as they thought it was barely starting to come loose it suddenly popped off and slid to the ground, the sickening glisten of the mummy’s skin in full view as it lurched forward with a snap, drawing startled screams as all three of them instinctively jumped back a step.

“God _damn it!_ ” Genji barked hoarsely, a hand clutched to his chest as if forcibly trying to calm the thudding of his heart

“I _hate_ when these things do that.” Hanzo said, echoing the sentiment with a shudder as he approached the mummy to inspect it.

“He supposed to look like that?” McCree asked with morbid curiosity as he situated himself on the other side of the mummy, meeting Hanzo’s eyes questioningly.

“No… I’ve never seen a mummy look like this before,” Hanzo confirmed uneasily. “He’s still… still…”

“Juicy.” Genji and McCree said in unison.

“Precisely,” Hanzo agreed, not able to find a more apt word to describe the corpse in front of him. “This mummy has to be at least three thousand years old and yet, he appears to still be… decomposing.” Hanzo stood there for a long moment, trying to puzzle out the new details of the mummy into something that _wasn’t_ horrifically concerning when McCree suddenly spoke up.

“Hanzo, look at that,” McCree said in a hushed voice, pointing to where the lid rested face down in the sand and slowly approaching it. Hanzo and Genji followed him, the former’s eyes widening as he saw the irregular furrows adorning the inside. “What d’ya make of this?” McCree asked, though the grim tone in his voice told Hanzo he had already come to his own conclusions.

“My god, these marks were made with…” Hanzo placed his hand inside the lid, trailing the path of the grooves with his fingers before sucking in a breath. “…fingernails. This man was buried alive.” Hanzo revealed before he continued to inspect the markings, not needing to lift his head to picture the horrified looks on Genji and McCree’s faces. “And he left a message…”

“What does it say?” Genji asked, every ounce of his normal joviality having vanished under the weight of Hanzo’s revelations. Hanzo scanned the symbols, and while they may have been messily carved under horrific circumstances, their message was clear as day.

“Death comes from the shadows…”

~~~

“Ugh, that’s musty as fuck,” Favalaro complained as the cloud of dust cleared away, revealing a square bundle wrapped in old, rough linen. Sanjay paid the mutterings of his companions no mind as he kneeled next to the chest, carefully unfolding the cloth to reveal glistening black metal covered in intricate symbols, none more noticeable than the large eight-pointed star in its centre.

“It does exist,” Sanjay breathed in awe. “The Book of the Dead.”

“A book?” Golosky sneered. “Who gives a shit about some stupid book, where’s the treasure?”

“This, gentleman, _is_ treasure.” Sanjay stated confidently, grasping the book and slowly rising from his crouch to show it off while his companions just scoffed and muttered.

“To you, maybe.” Golosky disputed angrily. “I wouldn’t trade a rusty iron ring for that worthless piece of-“ Golosky’s stopped abruptly as his boot accidentally rammed into the side of the chest, making a panel fall away to reveal a hidden compartment.

“Well would ya look at that,” Harrington said distractedly as the four of them peered into the compartment. The light of their torches revealed two tall bracelets and a wide necklace fashioned in gold and inlaid with numerous slices of lapis, garnet and turquoise nestled carefully inside.

“There’s your treasure. Satisfied?” Sanjay asked, cradling the book protectively in his arms as the Americans all reached Into the compartment. Favalaro plucked out one of the bracelets that, upon closer inspection, was adorned with a multi-coloured eagle placed so that its wings would be wrapped almost protectively around the arm of the wearer. Harrington picked out its twin, while Golosky pulled out the necklace that depicted a beautifully stylized image of an owl in flight.

“Hell fuckin’ yeah,” Golosky confirmed with a satisfied smirk.

~~~

Hanzo walked distractedly through the camp that evening just as the sun had gone down. Troubled thoughts whirled through his mind as he fiddled with the puzzle box and ruminated over the discoveries he, McCree, and Genji had made that afternoon.

While he may not have believed in curses, he definitely believed something strange was going on.

Hanzo was broken suddenly from his ponderings by a loud grunt of frustrated exertion, prompting him to look over to where he saw Sanjay trying to pry open a black metal book with his bare hands.

A book possessing the exact same lock as the sarcophagus they’d opened.

Hanzo stumbled and froze as he stared at the book, swiftly pocketing the box as Sanjay looked up at him with a hostile, questioning stare. “I believe you need a key to open that book.” He stated after a beat of awkward silence, schooling his features into a neutral mask before continuing on his path towards his group’s section of the camp.

Meanwhile, Jesse and Genji sat on a plank held up by flat rocks on either end near a low-burning campfire. Jamison was sitting with them, having wormed his way between onto the bench a few minutes ago with a nervous look in his eye. Jesse and Genji shared a look over Jamison’s head, the latter silently asking if he wanted him to dropkick him down a hill and the former giving a subtle shake of his head. Jesse knew Jamison liked cozying up to the ones who were the least likely to die. It was a big chunk of the reason why Jamison had ever been his friend in the first place. If he was doing it now, they must have discovered something that scared the shit out of him down in the ruins.

That wasn’t exactly a good thing.

“Say, McCree. What d’ya think these little darlins will fetch back home?” Favalaro asked snidely as he, Harrington and Golosky claimed the plank across from them and showed off their glittering finds.

“We heard you fellas found yourselves a nice, gooey mummy. Congrats, bud.” Harrington said insincerely in turn.

“You know, if you dry that fucker out in the sun for a couple weeks, you might be able to sell him for firewood.” Golosky teased cruelly as he proudly displayed the pectoral necklace he wore draped around his neck before all three of them broke into self-satisfied laughter. Jesse’s lips split into a smile and he laughed along with them, though the smile was more akin to a grimace and the laughter was audibly fake.

“Look what I found!” Hanzo said excitedly as he came upon them, approaching Jesse from behind as he held his find cradled in his hands.

“Yer in his seat,” McCree drawled pointedly to Fawkes, who let out a disbelieving chuckle. “Now!” McCree said harshly, the iron in his voice brooking no argument.

“Sure thing, mate,” Fawkes said quickly as he leapt to his feet and settled on McCree’s other side.

“Scarab skeletons, flesh-eaters,” Hanzo revealed, showing his handful off to everyone before sitting down on the bench, enjoying the warmth that radiated next to him as he settled next to McCree.

 _Jesse._ His mind corrected him, making him smile internally. _He asked me to call him Jesse._

“I found them inside our friend’s coffin,” Hanzo continued, leaning forward so that they could be seen clearly by Jesse and Genji in the firelight. “They can stay alive for years feasting on the flesh of a corpse.” Jesse delicately picked up one of the skeletons just as Genji did the same, and Hanzo didn’t think he was imagining the purposeful brush of Jesse’s fingers against his own as he held it up to inspect it. “Unfortunately for our friend, it seems that he was still alive when they started eating him.”

“So somebody threw these in with our new pal and they slowly fed on him… while he was still _alive?_ ” Jesse asked with barely concealed horror.

“ _Very_ slowly.” Hanzo confirmed.

“Poor bastard certainly wasn’t a popular one when they forced him to take a dirt nap, was he?” Genji asked flippantly, trying to bring some levity to the situation.

“My guess is he got a little too frisky with the pharaoh’s daughter.” Jesse said with a smirk, following along before a thoughtful look came across his face. “Or son. The rules were particularly bendy back in the day.”

“Twenty pounds says it was the pharaoh’s son,” Hanzo joked.

“Turn those pounds into dollars and you’ve got yourself a deal, sugar.” Jesse joked right back, holding out a hand that Hanzo shook with a smirk.

“According to my readings, our friend was forced to endure the Mut Akh. The worst of all ancient Egyptian curses, and one reserved only for the very worst of heretics.” Hanzo informed, getting back to business. “In all of my years of research, I have _never_ come across any evidence of this curse having _actually_ been performed.”

“That bad?” Jesse asked roughly as he stared into the flames, only Hanzo noticing his hand in a sudden white-knuckled grip on the handle of his revolver.

“Yes,” Hanzo confirmed with a grim nod of his head. “They never used the curse because of how deeply they feared it. It is said that if a victim of the Mut Akh should ever arise, he would bring plagues and shadows to feast upon the world.”

After the morbidity of Hanzo’s impromptu storytelling session, everyone seemed pretty content to go to their own sides of their shared camp to try and get some rest before setting off the next morning. Hanzo however couldn’t sleep no matter how hard he tried, his mind obsessing over the image of the black book that Sanjay possessed.

He _had_ to know what was in it.

Mind having been made, Hanzo carefully got to his feet, careful not to disturb Genji, Jesse or Fawkes, who had apparently decided he liked their side better than his own party’s and silently made his way through the camp until he came upon Sanjay’s sleeping form, the book held clutched to his chest in one arm. On one hand it was nice that he wouldn’t have to rummage around for it and cause a disturbance, but it was going to be pretty damn difficult to pry it away without waking him up.

Ever-so-gently, Hanzo grabbed onto the book and began inching it out of his grasp. Sanjay let out a sudden rush of air and Hanzo froze, certain he was about to be discovered when Sanjay suddenly let go of the book to turn over onto his side.

“That was a freebie.” Hanzo muttered disbelievingly, stealing one of his brother favourite phrases as he picked up the book, the unexpected heft of it making the fresh wound on his shoulder twinge a bit as he walked back through the camp. Jesse, the one he was most worried about inadvertently waking, was thankfully right where he left him, lying face up with his back and shoulders propped up by his pack draped in his folded up blanket and his hand lightly grasping his revolver as he slept, always on guard.

“That’s called stealin’, ya know?” Jesse said without opening his eyes as Hanzo put the book down on a low rock.

_Damn._

“According to you and my brother, it’s actually called borrowing.” Hanzo said dryly as he reached over Genji’s heavily sleeping form to dig in his pocket for the puzzle box he’d begrudgingly handed off to him before they went to sleep. His brother had wanted to fiddle around with it, and Hanzo didn’t possess the will to tell him no after the last few days they’d had. He crawled back over to where he’d placed the book on a low rock and held up the box to twist it into its key form.

“I thought the Book of Amun-Ra was supposed to be made of gold?’ Jesse asked, not a hint of drowsiness in his voice as he sat up and shuffled to look over Hanzo’s shoulder.

“It is made out of gold.” Hanzo confirmed. “But this _isn’t_ the Book of Amun-Ra. I believe that this is actually the black Book of the Dead.” Hanzo placed the key into its slot, but just as he made to turn it, Jesse grabbed lightly at his wrist.

“You sure this is somethin’ you wanna be messin’ around with?” Jesse asked seriously.

“It’s just a book,” Hanzo dismissed, pulling his hand away until Jesse took the hint and reluctantly let go. Freed, Hanzo gripped the key again and rotated it until he heard a dull click from somewhere inside the book and the clasps holding it shut came loose. “No harm ever came from reading a book.”

Hanzo pulled on the cover, but as soon as the book fell open, a fell wind suddenly whistled through the camp. Their fire flickered heavily for a moment before the air abruptly quieted again, and the flames continued burning as if nothing had happened.

“That happens an awful lot ‘round here.” Jesse said with a hint of unease colouring his otherwise flippant tone as he crowded over Hanzo’s shoulder once more. “So? What’s it say?”

“ _Amun ra, Amun dei_ ,” Hanzo recited. “It’s speaking of the night and the day…” Hanzo continued reading aloud, not bothering to translate word-for-word as he was simply too focused on devouring its contents. As he read off the last symbol carved into the metal of the page, a loud but muted screech rang out from beneath their feet, so powerful that it made the ground vibrate and woke everyone still sleeping in the camp.

“ _NO!_ ” Sanjay screamed from across the camp as he lurched to his feet, pure and utter terror in his eyes. “YOU MUST NOT READ FROM THE BOOK!”

The air stilled, then began to churn as a chittering sound began to sound off quietly in the distance but grew louder with each passing second. Hanzo and Jesse, joined by a recently roused Genji stood together and watched as a black, undulating cloud appeared over the blue horizon and swarmed unnaturally fast toward the City of the Dead.

“ _RUN!_ ” Jesse yelled as locusts came streaming over the wall by the thousands, gripping first Hanzo’s arm and then Genji’s as they picked up their weapons and dragged them into a sprint to escape the insects chasing them through the ruins. The Americans and Fawkes dashed one way while their group diverged at a pillar to jump into the relative safety of the inner chambers of Hamunaptra. Rather than flee, Sanjay instead sat heavily onto the stone of a low wall, clutching the book to his chest as dozens of locusts perched uncaringly all over his body.

“What have we done?” He asked mournfully as he stared up into the sky, the light of the moon and stars completely obscured by the flying forms of the locust plague that swirled in the shadows of the night sky.

~~~

Hundreds of miles away, far from the City of the Dead and the evil that had just been awoken there, a man jerked out of his cot and onto the ground with a cry. He flipped over onto his back to look up at the fabric of his tent, trying to figure out what it was that woke him up.

But all he could see was blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, shit's going DOOOOOOOOOOOOWN. I guess Hanzo's the idiot in the horror movie who decides reads out the spell to wake the dead for funsies, even though the book is LITERALLY called the Book of the Dead. It's ok Hanzo, we still love you.
> 
> Once again, the talented [Somebody_Someone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somebody_Someone/pseuds/%0ASomebody_Someone) made some artwork for last chapter of Hanzo and McCree talking about mummification (to Genji's disgust), Fareeha with her sword, and of course, the kiss our favourite boys shared over whiskey and tragic backstories. 
> 
> You can find them right [here](https://chromatocloo.tumblr.com/post/164302376871/buncha-doodles-for-the-7th-chapter-of)
> 
> As always, thanks for all the comments and kudos :3


	9. Run, Don't Walk, To the Nearest Exit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *disclaimer* some dialogue taken directly from the movie  
> warning for gore and body horror

“Where in the hell did they come from?!” Harrington yelled to his companions as the three of them sprinted down a passageway to take shelter from the locusts deeper underground.

“Hell if I know! But I ain’t stickin’ around to find out!” Golosky yelled back. The passageway twisted and turned into an area of the ruins they hadn’t yet explored, and Favalaro found himself landing facefirst into the sand as he tripped over a stray piece of rubble, sending his glasses skittering away across the floor.

“My glasses!” Favalaro cried out as his companions left him behind, brushing his hands along the ground in front of him in an attempt to find them to no avail. Pounding footsteps sounded out from behind him, and Favalaro turned to see the blurry form of Fawkes sprinting through the passage toward him.

“Fawkes! Can you help me find my gla-“ A brittle crunch suddenly sounded off a couple feet to his left right as Fawkes ran past him.  

“Wait for me!” Fawkes yelled hysterically as he sped down the passage, hanging a left before the sound of his footsteps and the light of his torch vanished. Favalaro picked up the remains of his glasses and put them on, hoping that he could at least half-see out of them, but they were completely ruined with one of the lenses missing and the other so badly shattered that it was useless. He pocketed them and tried to pick his way through the passage, a hand held out in front of him and the other dragging against the stone wall to steady himself. With the torches held by his companions long gone, the passageway was only dimly lit by moonlight streaming through cracks in the ceiling, making it just that much more difficult to see.

Favalaro had only been walking for a couple of minutes when he felt a hard gust of unnatural wind whistling in the passage behind him. “Who’s there?” He called, fear making his voice tremble as it echoed eerily off the walls. The air suddenly stilled again, and Favalaro was halfway through a sigh of relief before a low, tortured screech rang out from somewhere behind him. Favalaro whipped out his revolver, almost dropping it on the ground as it slid in his sweat-soaked hands.

“WHO’S THERE?!” Favalaro all but screamed. The blurriness of his vision and the unyielding stone of the passageway made the dull roar of the wind, chittering sounds and groans seem like they were coming from all directions at once. Favalaro couldn’t do anything other than turn around and around aimlessly, trying and failing to detect any sort of actual movement. Footsteps sliding across the sand behind him had him spinning around once again, nearly tripping over his feet in his haste. He squinted as hard as he could to try and clear his vision, and spied an indescript figure walking towards him.

“Golosky?” Favalaro called hopefully just before another gust of wind whooshed through the passageway behind him. He flinched and checked over his shoulder, thankful he didn’t see anything until he turned back and realized the figure had vanished.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit!_ ” Favalaro whimpered pitifully. He began wracking his brain for something, _anything_ he could do to get himself out of this when he heard it.

Loud, wheezing, _growling_ breaths.

Coming from directly behind him.

Favalaro closed his eyes and sucked in a trembling breath, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up like they were electrified and his senses going haywire as his heart accelerated well beyond racing. Favalaro opened his eyes, casting them over his shoulder before slowly turning around. As he took in the visage of the creature standing before him, Favalaro did the only thing he could do.

He screamed.

~~~

Jesse jabbed his torch through the entryway of the passage, then poked his head forward to make sure the coast was clear. Seeing nothing, he motioned to Hanzo and Genji and they strode hastily through the passage, but they only managed to make it a few steps before the earth shook violently beneath their feet.

“Genji!” Hanzo cried out with wide eyes as he watched Genji stagger forward and noticed the sand beginning to rise beneath his foot. Hanzo grabbed his arm to pull him back to where he and Jesse stood, and they watched in morbid fascination as the sand continued to rise before bursting open like a nasty boil, allowing hundreds upon hundreds of flesh-eating scarabs to spew forth from the earth.

“ _Run!_ Go, go, run!” Jesse yelled, placing a hand in the middle of Hanzo and Genji’s backs to get them moving, breaking them out of the wide-eyed, frozen reverie that swept over them upon seeing the chittering insects. Jesse brought up the rear as they sprinted through the passageway, flinging his torch behind him to try and slow down the bugs. When that didn’t work, Jesse spun on his heel so he could run backwards and try his hand at target practice. Jesse had managed to snag up a stray shotgun while they’d raced through the camp to flee the locusts, and he pulled it from where he had slung it across his back to fire into the writhing mass of bugs. He took out ten with one shot and twenty with another, and while it did manage to marginally slow them down, the bastards just kept coming.

Jesse slung the shotgun over his shoulder again and turned around to catch up with the brothers just as they turned a corner and barrelled through an archway onto a wide stone ramp. It was mostly bracketed by sheer cliff walls and empty space, but there were a few pillars and ledges carved out of the stone off to the sides. Hanzo, at the head of the pack, got to the top of the ramp and leapt gracefully onto one of the ledges. Following behind, Genji and Jesse jumped onto the same pillar one after the other. Genji grabbed tightly onto Jesse’s hand to pull him when he misjudged the distance and just barely got his toes on the pillar, keeping him from tipping backward onto the scarabs carpeting the ramp as they scurried upward and dying a very unpleasant death.

“Thanks,” Jesse panted hoarsely, giving Genji’s hand a firm shake before letting it go. “I owe you one.”

“Anytime,” Genji said just as hoarsely, his eyes fixed on the mass of scarabs scuttling up the ramp. Just as Jesse was beginning to think the damned things were infinite in number, he spied the tail-end of the pack and watched as the last of them ascended the ramp and disappeared through the archway at the top. Jesse shared a relieved look with Genji, and then looked up to do the same with Hanzo.

Except he wasn’t there.

“Hanzo?” Jesse called worriedly. “ _Hanzo?!_ ”

“Hanzo!” Genji cried as he leaped frenziedly back to the ramp, scanning the ledge where his brother had been standing with his sword raised defensively. “HANZO!”

But there was no answer.

~~~

Hanzo watched as the scarabs scuttled past him with wide-eyed fascination. Where did they come from? How did they manage to survive in such large numbers in a place like this?

Though the distance between himself and the carnivorous insects was great enough to keep them from getting to him, it didn’t stop the scarabs fringing the edge of the ramp from pausing to hiss at him threateningly before getting pushed along by the pack. When a trio of them stopped and flared their wings at him as if about to fly over and take a bite out of him, Hanzo instinctively stepped back to press himself against the cliff wall. As soon as he did so however, the wall abruptly gave way behind him.

“ _Kuso!_ ” Hanzo cried, trying to grip onto the edges of the wall to keep himself standing but to no avail. He fell backward and twisted to land on his side as the wall thudded back into place, half-expecting to just keep falling into darkness but thankfully landing on sand instead. Hanzo carefully got to his feet, grabbing his bow and nocking an arrow as he looked around suspiciously at the dark chamber he found himself in.

A low groan suddenly broke the eerie silence, and Hanzo rounded a corner to see Favalaro standing in a beam of moonlight streaming right into the middle of the chamber.

“Favalaro!” Hanzo called thankfully as he approached him from behind. “Thank god you’re here. I’ve lost Genji and Jesse and I was just starting to get nervo-“ The rest of Hanzo’s sentence died in his throat as Favalaro turned to face him.

Revealing the empty sockets where his eyes once sat.

“Oh god…” Hanzo gasped, his own eyes widening as he slapped a hand over his mouth in shock.

“My eyes, my eyes!” Favalaro choked out, throwing his arms out searchingly in front of him. Hanzo instinctively stepped back, turning on his heel to see if he could find a way to get himself and Favalaro out of the ruins but finding nothing but shadows.

But then the shadows parted, revealing a _very_ familiar corpse.

And it was sporting a fresh pair of eyes.

“ _HOLY SHIT!_ ” Hanzo screamed fearfully, skittering backward in an attempt to escape but halted by a wall of stone at his back.

“He dook my dongue, he yust fuckin’ dook it.” Favalaro sobbed from where he now lay sprawled on the ground, trying to crawl away and having no idea where to go. But Hanzo couldn’t afford to spare him a glance, his gaze riveted with primal fear on the creature.

While the appearance of its wasted body was mostly the same as it had been when Hanzo had left it, there were several stark differences. The mummy’s skeleton was barely held together by rotted tendons and irregular chunks of muscle tissue that had yet to fully waste away, but now it was wreathed in shadows that flickered and writhed like some otherworldly fire. Its teeth and nails were now long, jagged and razor-sharp, the black sclera of its new eyes lost in the darkness and its irises brightly lit by an eerie red glow.

“Stay back!” Hanzo yelled as the creature advanced ever closer, renocking the arrow he somehow managed to hold onto and aiming it directly between the mummy’s glowing eyes. “ _STAY BACK!_ ”

“ _Archer,”_ The mummy’s ruined throat grated out in the ancient Egyptian language, its eyes unblinking as it stared at Hanzo’s weapon before locking gazes with him.

“ _Killer of Akhom…”_

~~~

“Fuckin’ _open_ goddamn it!” Jesse grunted  frustratedly as he pushed against the wall where Hanzo had disappeared.

“It’s a trap door!” Genji yelled with equal frustration as he pawed at the cliff wall, fruitlessly searching for a hidden button or switch. The panel rattled back and forth as Jesse rammed his shoulder against it over and over, confirming that it was in fact a trap door, but the damned thing wouldn’t budge no matter what they tried. Jesse was just about to wind up for another hit despite the complaints from his heavily bruised shoulder when he heard shouts echoing from the top of the ramp.

“Run! Run you bastards!” Harrington yelled as he barreled through the archway with Golosky and one of the diggers hot on his heels.

The growing chittering sound that followed behind him strongly suggested that they weren’t the only ones on his tail.

“Time to go,” Jesse said quickly to Genji, leaping back to the ramp and wrenching Genji to his feet before sprinting down it right as Harrington and Golosky passed them.

Just as they reached the archway at the bottom, Jesse heard a dull thud and turned on his heel to see the digger sprawled facedown on the ramp. He tried and failed to scrabble to his feet, and Jesse watched in horror as the scarabs began to engulf his writhing body. Jesse raised Peacekeeper and numbly fired off a shot right into the digger’s head, saving him the agony of having the flesh stripped from his bones as the scarabs swiftly devoured him, leaving behind a horrifically mangled corpse.

Genji had hung back while Harrington and Golosky unsurprisingly made themselves scarce, standing beside him to watch the entire stomach-turning thing and Jesse appreciated the steadying hand the other man laid on his shoulder a lot more than he let on.

The scarabs, not giving a shit that they were having a moment, swarmed hungrily towards their next targets.

“Go!” Jesse yelled, and the two of them raced side-by-side down the passageway and further into the ruins.

Hopefully they’d find Hanzo before something else found him first.

~~~

“ _You will make an excellent sacrifice, Archer. Come with me now, and I’ll ensure that your death is painless,”_ The creature growled as it extended a rotted hand, taking another step closer. Hanzo’s eyes and bow tracked the movement, his back sliding against the wall as he shuffled sideways along it.

Hanzo was at a complete and utter loss of what to do. Just one movement of his fingers would be enough to loose the arrow right into its head, but the raw power emanating from the creature told him that that wouldn’t be a smart idea. If the writings of the Mut Akh were to be taken literally, which Hanzo was pretty inclined to do so given the fact that there was a _fucking animated corpse_ standing in front of him, the arrow would only serve to antagonize him.

One look at Favalaro was proof enough that Hanzo wouldn’t enjoy the results of riling the creature up.

“Oh thank fuck, _there_ you are!” Jesse’s _blessed_ voice suddenly emanated from the passageway off to his left mere seconds before the man himself came into view and grabbed him by the shoulder. “Are ya done with the hide an’ seek? We gotta get the fuck out o’ here!”

But Hanzo didn’t look at him, _couldn’t_ look at him, his gaze locked straight ahead.  

“Hanzo! What’s your de- _HOLY FUCK!_ ” Jesse screamed mid-sentence as he finally turned to see what Hanzo was staring so raptly at.

“Hanzo!” Genji called desperately as he barreled into the chamber, his face lighting up as he saw his brother safe and sound and then immediately going white as a sheet as he got his first look at the creature. He jerked to a sudden stop, dropping his torch to the ground where it immediately guttered out and then staggering forward as Harrington and Golosky slammed into him from behind. The mummy glared at the new intruders for a second before it turned back to lock eyes with Hanzo, taking yet another step forward before dropping its jaw to let out an ear-piercing and utterly _horrific_ screech.

Hanzo, like everyone else, clapped his hands over his ears to block out the noise. But Jesse, beautiful, wonderful, absolutely _batshit insane_ Jesse, took a step forward to bellow right back in the corpse’s face before pulling the shotgun from his back to pop off a round right into its abdomen.

“ _Let’s go!_ ” Jesse all but screamed, not taking his eyes off the creature as he grabbed Hanzo firmly by the hand to lead him into a sprint.

“No argument here!” Genji yelled from behind them as he followed along, drowning out the terrified babbling of Golosky as he and Harrington brought up the rear.

The passageway they ran through twisted and winded, but eventually they spotted the dim light of their somehow still-burning campfires and raced toward it. They rounded the corner only to be met with the sound of a dozen guns cocking, and came to a rolling stop in front of a line of familiar black-clad warriors. Sanjay sat trembling on his knees in front of the chieftain, his arms still wrapped tightly around that damned book.

The chieftain pulled her black face covering down to her throat and stalked forward. “I told you to leave or die. You refused. Now your arrogance may have killed us all,” She said calmly with a hint of snarl in her voice. “Your actions have unleashed a creature we’ve feared for over three thousand years.”

“Got him with a dose of shotgun pellets to the stomach,” Jesse said flippantly. “Ain’t no way he’s walkin’ away from that.”

“Fool,” The chieftain spat. “There is no mortal weapon that can kill him. All you’ve done is piss him off.” She made a beckoning gesture with her hand, prompting the line to part to allow two warriors to pass through with Favalaro held on his feet between them. They moved forward and gently deposited him on the ground in front of Harrington and Golosky, who immediately dropped to their knees to hold him in a reclining position. The wounded man relaxed minutely, leaning his head back to rest on Harrington’s shoulder with a tortured groan.

“What the hell did you do to him?!” Harrington barked over his shoulder, not able to look away from the fallen form of his friend.

“We saved him, you idiot. Saved him before the creature could finish him off,” She growled in annoyance. “All of you must leave, and quickly, before he finishes all of you as well.” She looked back to her warriors, before jerking her head toward the City’s entrance. “ _Time to hunt, my brothers and sisters._ ” She called as they began prowling into the ruins, speaking the same flawless ancient Egyptian dialect as the creature did before returning to English without missing a beat. “Now I must hunt him down, and then find a way to do the impossible and kill the son of a bitch.”

“I already told you, I got him,” Jesse said again, though he didn’t sound nearly as certain as he did before. The chieftain stopped in her tracks, reluctantly turning on her heel to approach Jesse with fiery anger in her eyes.

“You listen to me,” She bit out. “This creature is a bringer of death the likes of which the world has never seen.” The chieftain prowled another step forward, crossing threateningly into Jesse’s personal space.

“He will never eat, he will never sleep, and he will _never stop._ ”

_~~~_

“Oh come _on!”_ Jamison whined pathetically as the passageway led him back to the legs of Anubis for the _third fucking time._ The rushes of whistling air and fell groans in the distance had steadily grown louder and louder as Jamison struggled through the ruins, and he was just as hopelessly lost as he’d been ten minutes ago. Suddenly, the noises abruptly dropped off, not ceasing entirely but definitely receding.

Jamison let out a loud sigh of relief, keeping his revolver raised but sticking it in his belt for a second so he could wipe off the sweat beading on his palm onto his pants. The sound of shifting sand put him right back on the defensive and he snatched the gun back into his hand and slowly shuffled backward, pointing both revolver and torch in the direction of one darkened entryway and then the other. Not detecting any sign of movement, Jamison shrugged and turned around midstep to check the other passageways.

He wasn’t expecting to lock gazes with a  pair of glowing, _glaring_ red eyes set into a darkened, rotting face just a few inches away.

“Oh, fuck me,” Jamison whimpered pitifully as he staggered backward, his breath leaving him in shuddering gasps as the creature bared its horrifically long teeth at him in a snarl and slowly advanced toward him.

“Come on, mate, can’t we talk about this?” Jamison pleaded, giggling nervously as the creature continued to stalk forward. “I can help you! I’ll do anything!” He bargained desperately, but it did nothing to stop the creature’s advance.

Jamison stepped backward only for something to roll under his foot and send him stumbling backward onto his ass.

“What in the _fuck?_ ” Jamison screeched in panic as he agitatedly snatched up whatever had made him fall, scrabbling backward on the sand as the corpse closed the distance. Jamison held up the object just as the mummy bared its teeth and raised a clawed hand to strike.

It was one of the arrows McCree’s beau had been toting around.

The creature paused.

“ _Archer…_ ” It growled, lacing the word with a deep, inhuman fury as it glared at the arrow. Even though the creature had _definitely_ spoken in a language that Jamison had never even heard before, let alone understand, he was able to fully comprehend what the corpse had said, like a translation was playing simultaneously in his head.

“I can take you to ‘im.” Jamison offered quickly, watching in relief as the creature’s face went flat, then twisted into a disturbing parody of a smile.

“ _Do._ ” It demanded. “ _Be of good use to me, and the rewards will be great._ ” The creature stated, opening its other hand to reveal a handful of golden rings and jewels. Jamison’s eyes widened and then fixed greedily upon the glittering evidence of a much larger payout.

“M-My prince…” Jamison stuttered out reverently, his mind going blank at the sight of the beautiful, precious _gold._

“ _But first…_ ” The creature grated out harshly as it closed its fist and approached the empty chest still sitting in the middle of the chamber, breaking Jamison out of his greedy reverie to look up at his new boss. “ _Lead me to the thieves who made the mistake of stealing from me.”_

Jamison let out a mocking laugh.

“Oh I can _definitely_ do that, mate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are pretty bad right now, but we're juuuuust getting started :3
> 
> Long Desert Shadows broke 250 kudos last chapter and has over 4000 hits and I couldn't be more thrilled! Thank you all for your kind comments and continued support!!! :D


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